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7/1996

Now is one of those times. Before he found his groove, however, Jenco's acting career was something he wrestled with, not so much as one might wrestle with a dilemma, but as one might wrestle with Hulk Hogan. He had hi good rounds: a guest spot here, a supporting role there, but with 21 Jump Street representing the pinnacle of his employability, it was a constant struggle between what he envisioned for himself and what he was ultimately permitted to do.

Now, Jenco is as surprised as anyone to find himself enjoying the fruits of his labor -- the realization of dreams that he didn't even know he was having. Had you asked him ten years ago what he'd be doing in another ten years, he'd never have guessed the answer would be, "running one of the most successful clubs in the country." But that, among other things, is just what he's doing.

He still acts, of course [most recently, with pal Johnny Depp and Al Pacino, playing -- can you believe this? -- a club owner], and he occasionally plays with the band, P, [earlier this year, P recorded an album for Capital Records, titled P, with Gibby Haynes (of The Butthole Surfers), Bill Carter, Depp, Flea (of The Red Hot Chili Peppers) and Steve Jones (of The Sex Pistols), but it is the club that commands the lion's share of his attention these days.

And what he's created with the Viper Room isn't merely a place for kids to go hear anyone from Tom Petty to Counting Crows to lggy Pop and Billy Idol; it is an experience beyond the music -- an experience that encompasses, from time to time, theater, multimedia, spoken-word and the kind of once-in-a-lifetime event that only happens when someone has the guts to throw together seemingly disparate elements [like El Vez, the Mexican Elvis and Ross David and Providence, the Singing Rabbis] for a show that defies description and brings a smile to the face of anyone reading the marquis.

At 36 years old and a little over 5'6", Jenco is a diminutive physical presence -- a kind of melancholy-satyr; melancholy-seeming, that is, till something tickles his extremely perverse sense of humor and his face screws up into a rubbery. malleable -- almost shape-shifting -- version of a smile. But what he lacks in stature. Jenco more Musician, Actor, Poet, Artist, Club Manager... Sal Jenco has always lived his life like an extended riff; an endless improvisation -- a harmonic flight of fancy, that moves in, over, around and through each day and every incident, hitting certain notes, finding rhythms -- creating them really, where none existed -- before bouncing off into a completely different tonal fantasy. It is, to be sure, an edgy, nervous way to conduct one's life and sometimes the melodies and harmonies get mangled in the process. Then again, sometimes -- just sometimes -- man, it just swings!

Now is one of those times. Before he found his groove, however, Jenco's acting career was something he wrestled with, not so much as one might wrestle with a dilemma, but as one might wrestle with Hulk Hogan. He had hi good rounds: a guest spot here, a supporting role there, but with 21 Jump Street representing the pinnacle of his employability, it was a constant struggle between what he envisioned for himself and what he was ultimately permitted to do.

Now, Jenco is as surprised as anyone to find himself enjoying the fruits of his labor -- the realization of dreams that he didn't even know he was having. Had you asked him ten years ago what he'd be doing in another ten years, he'd never have guessed the answer would be, "running one of the most successful clubs in the country." But that, among other things, is just what he's doing.

He still acts, of course [most recently, with pal Johnny Depp and Al Pacino, playing -- can you believe this? -- a club owner], and he occasionally plays with the band, P, [earlier this year, P recorded an album for Capital Records, titled P, with Gibby Haynes (of The Butthole Surfers), Bill Carter, Depp, Flea (of The Red Hot Chili Peppers) and Steve Jones (of The Sex Pistols), but it is the club that commands the lion's share of his attention these days.

And what he's created with the Viper Room isn't merely a place for kids to go hear anyone from Tom Petty to Counting Crows to lggy Pop and Billy Idol; it is an experience beyond the music -- an experience that encompasses, from time to time, theater, multimedia, spoken-word and the kind of once-in-a-lifetime event that only happens when someone has the guts to throw together seemingly disparate elements [like El Vez, the Mexican Elvis and Ross David and Providence, the Singing Rabbis] for a show that defies description and brings a smile to the face of anyone reading the marquis.

At 36 years old and a little over 5'6", Jenco is a diminutive physical presence -- a kind of melancholy-satyr; melancholy-seeming, that is, till something tickles his extremely perverse sense of humor and his face screws up into a rubbery. malleable -- almost shape-shifting -- version of a smile. But what he lacks in stature. Jenco more than makes up for in heart and soul and if he sometimes seems not to give a shit, well, looks are deceiving.

His reputation -- among people in the industry, his close circle of friends or his employ -- is one of selfless compassion to a degree that has already become something of a legend, and to create a legend -- any legend, good, bad or indifferent -- in just the few short years he's been running the joint, is no small feat. People don't just like Jenco, they tend to adore him.

Known to few is the fact that Jenco has been responsible for steering many a troubled youth toward the path of their own salvation. This not only doesn't overstate the facts, it doesn't even begin to touch them -- doesn't get close to the impact he has had on people for whom help had never before been an option. He is fearless, non-judgemental and has a soul the size of a small country.

We met recently in the empty black space that is the club when it's dormant. Walls, floors, ceilings, tables, booths, bar, all painted black. The only break, color-wise, comes every few yards from the green glass Deco wall-sconces that dot the room. For this interview, Jenco -- also dressed in black, suggested we retire to the private bar downstairs where he meets with the girl who cuts his hair, never far from the ringing phones, the messages, the sound-checks and my questions.

Amid snips, we talked...

Jenco: What do you want me to do?

Chrysalis: Answer my questions... honestly.

Forget it!

Okay, tell me what it was like, what happened and what it's like now.

I can only say this about that. I'm alive... and it's a miracle! That pretty much sums everything up.

Let's talk about your career and how you wound up here, doing this.

I was really drunk; I did a lot of things, I didn't do them anymore and then I started doing this. [thinks] No! A lot of other things happened, too!

Okay, how did you get from there -- being "really drunk" -- to "a lot of other things happening," to "doing this?" Talk a bit about the transitions.

God... has an incredible sense of humor! That's why I'm here...

A sober, recovering alcoholic, running a bar in Hollywood?

Yes. That's how I got here -- sober, but incredibly heart-broken, lonely, desolate, hopeless, wanted to die, went to 900 meetings a day, sponsored lots of people, felt worse than I'd ever felt in my life, worked the steps to the best of my ability. This [running the club] is something I never planned on doing, because I have no experience whatsoever. The only [club] experience I had was as a musician, a lighting designer, a sound-guy, a road manager, playing and working with bands in clubs. I had experience only from the performing end, not from the business end, really, not from the management end, not from developing scenes, not from watching large groups of people to see what moves them in a positive or negative way.

Before I got here, 95% of what I know now, I didn't know then. All I knew when I got here is that I was incredibly broken-hearted, and somehow I fell into this as the result of having a partner [Johnny Depp] who's an extremely busy man -- doesn't have the time to look after a bar, but really wanted to have one, is a great guy and we're best friends and sorta convinced me that this would be a good thing -- I was kinda against it...

Why?

Because I didn't know anything about it... but [Depp] had faith in me that I didn't have in myself. And what happened was, through some sort of strange process of going from wanting to hang myself to wanting to have a family, I somehow wound up managing a bar, which keeps you very busy... which kept my mind off of the reason I was so incredibly broken hearted and wanted to hang myself...

What was that all about?

I was involved with someone who left and I was very bruised -- in every sense of the word -- mentally, physically, emotionally -- I was dying. And this may sound strange, but in an odd way, and why I say God has a sense of humor is because, in a strange way, in a bar, me being sober, the bar saved my life because I put all my energy into doing and learning and trying to be as positive and contribute as much as I could. Because at one point I realized I have the ability to create happiness -- create some kind of harmony -- for large groups of people on a daily basis. I have the ability and the responsibility to do my absolute best to create a safe, fun environment for people to enjoy themselves and see, perhaps, something they can't see elsewhere -- to create positive energy. And, this is a place where we've, in the past, helped many people who have problems, to get help.

Oddly enough, in a nightclub, there are people roaming around, restless, irritable, discontent, feelin' bad, wanting to find a way out -- finding that way through alcohol. Some of these people you know, some of them you don't know, but every one of them, you can relate to, having gone through the process yourself and continue, hopefully, in recovery -- you're able to recognize this and there are many opportunities to be of service. Even though we're in the business of selling drinks, we're also in the business of being kind, decent, caring, compassionate human beings who have a responsibility to be of service to all of mankind: alcoholics and non-alcoholics, drug addicts... whatever. Anyone and everything.

When you do encounter a patron who's high -- in trouble whatever how do you handle it?

I try, in a subtle way, to find out what's going on with them, let them know that I'm sober and have gone through what they're going through and offer to help. It's always better to lead by example, of course, and in that way, leave the avenue of communication open. If they feel you're approachable -- that there's an understanding and comfort there -- it's always easier. To me it's always about the unification of spirit. Once people feel that, they'll sometimes call you and ask for help.

We've gone to pick people up in really dire straits, in grim parts of town and in very dangerous situations -- take them out and bring them to a hospital or clinic. We work with a lot of recovery and rehab places -- Cry Help, Exodus, what have you -- they know us very well because we've put many people through their system. We'll sit down and really talk to someone who might be in trouble, and if it's the right situation and the communication is there, beautiful things happen.

When you were building this club, you were working a minimum of 18 hours a day. How do you juggle your schedule between distributors, bands, record companies, special events, the work you do with other alcoholics and drug addicts and still have time for your own recovery?

Well, we've gotten it down to just 16 hours a day now [laughs].

Alright, well, if that's true, how do you manage it all?

Well, God has been very very good, generous and kind with me. He's put a lot of great people in my life and... service -- a lot of service. I constantly exist in turmoil and conflict. I guess there's something for me to learn there, but I'm always somewhat struggling and I don't see that as a bad thing because I've learned somehow that this is all a learning experience. But whatever the conflict and turmoil may be, my first instinct is to figure out what I must do to come through this, learn and grow as a human being.

I'm responsible for a lot stuff that I was never responsible for before. I'm learning how to deal with that, I'm learning how to deal with time, I'm learning how to deal with everyone other than myself and I'm learning how to deal with, 'well, I've dealt with everyone and I've taken care of everything and I've taken care of everyone and I haven't done anything at all for myself.' It's a weird balance. When one thing gets to be a little too much, I'll go to the other thing and they'll all balance each other out and, of course, I stay in almost constant contact with the Big Guy.

Do you have a lot of sober friends?

Everyone in my life who's close to me is sober -- pretty much... I think. Yeah, pretty much. My closest friends, anyway. I'm surrounded by sober people. I don't think that's by choice, it's just by circumstance, it's by how someone else designed this insane life of mine.

I'd like to retract everything I just said and replace it with the statement that it has been only through a series of higher consciousness colonies that I've achieved oneness with my anus, therefore there is no painus with this insanus.

Uh huh. Alright, well, back to my original question: in a job where you're booking bands, weeks -- sometimes months -- in advance, you're ordering beverages in advance, you're working out schedules in advance, what happens to "the now?" How do you manage to stay "in the moment?" Or is that even possible anymore?

I'm glad you brought that up, because, I'm forced on a daily, basis to be in the moment. Although I may be four months ahead, usually, the way things are scheduled, that moment, that hour, that afternoon, that day, that night, tomorrow night, next week, next month, it's all a matter of being able to think ahead and manage large blocks of time. That involves many people. It involves the 38 people who work here, it involves the three to seven hundred people I speak to in the course of a week... so, yeah, I'm forced to be in the moment, always. It has to do with one thing: singleness of purpose.

Your life has changed a lot in the past few years...

Yes, and that doesn't even take into consideration the sex change operation I had recently [laughs].

Your life has changed a lot in the past few years...

We grow, we move on, we change, some things remain the same or similar, other things change -- I've gained ten pounds, I'm not as regular as I once was. Then again, on the other hand, I have the same car -- those are things. Internally, in my heart, many of the things -- the foundation, the basis, has been the basis for the past nine years, or how long I've been sober. And from that foundation, we build the building. Now I'm on the ninth floor of that building, but the foundation is pretty much the same. I've got a couple of floors with no windows, but we're looking to put some in. If you can get me a good deal, let me know.

Not to take you out of the moment, but do you think about the next 20 years or so? Where am I gonna be, what will I be doing?

I don't like to, um -- oh, who the hell knows what's going to happen? I could walk out of this room and the water-heater will explode and burn me to death, or I could walk out of this room and be sucked into a blue vortex which sweeps me away to... I don't know. I'm a firm believer in 'everything is possible.' I'm alive and that's a miracle. That tells me absolutely anything is possible. Anything is possible! I spoke to Timothy Leary one day and he told me that he was going senile and he was happy about it. He said 'I don't have to be responsible for anything anymore.' It's very liberating. Now, I don't think I'm senile yet, but it is an instinctual thing. I don't know why I have it. I'm happy I have it. I don't question it. I don't look too far away. This might not be a great idea for a financial planner or an accountant, but for a human being who tries to be as honest, as decent and as hard working as possible, tries to always incorporate kindness and compassion and understanding and love and God in their lives. I think it's okay, because anything is possible and I'm part of anything. I'm already here and I don't know when I'm not going to be here, but I'm here now and I might as well kick some fuckin' ass!

Without thinking about it, what is the highest spiritual moment you've ever had in your life?

This! Right now. This is as good as anything else. The breath before the last breath before the last breath. This. This is. Why shouldn't it be?