| Blake Pleads for New Delay
in Homicide Trial
 Hey
Judge, listen to me for a couple minutes, will ya? I'm asking you very nice,
Ms. Schempp, or maybe you'd prefer if I just called you Darlene. Okay, Judge
Schempp then, okay, no disrespect intended. So let me tell ya how things are
with me. Lousy. Stinkin' lousy. This trial has been playin out for near four
years now. Four stinkin lousy years I'm on Entertainment Tonight every day
like some dancing monkey that they got me tricked out into. Not too funny,
let me tell you, not unless you got one sick sense of humor, and I know you
judge, I don't think that's the case with you. So, great. Now they steal my
attorney's computer. Big conspiracy to drag it out. Great, just great. I
tell ya, every time you think you got it made, old Mother Nature kicks you
in the scrotum.
So let me tell you, judge, let me tell you
a little about the four ages of Robert Blake. Mickey Gubotosi, that was the
birth name. Yeah I'm sure you saw that in all the depositions. That was the
first age of Robert Blake. The child actor stage. I was a cute little son of
a bitch, yeah I was. What did I know back then? Only kid to be in both 'Our
Gang' and 'The Little Rascals'. Ancient history. Try to find a picture of me
in em now. Ain't easy. Had my agent buy them all up, many as I could afford,
restraint orders on a lot of the rest. Just brought back bad memories for
me. Here I am, a little bit older. They had me play an Indian boy, 'Little
Beaver', in the 'Red Rider' movies. I'm stealin a pork chop from Fuzzy
Knight right there. For real, man, not in the script. I was hungry. Yeah.
Hungry child actor. I was Bobby Blake by then, dancing monkey, always got to
be the monkey, and you got me here again, judge. Survival. It was a great
life. Yeah. Being locked in the closets and beat up and burned and sexual
stuff - and to come out from under it - I mean, it's lovely. I mean, most
people like me end up on death row, or in the graveyards, or in prison. You
can't lock me up judge. I've always been locked up.
Hey I made it, grew up somehow you know,
got myself free, relatively speaking, and then what the hell, I ended up in
the Army. Not so bad. This was the second age of Blake. Wish I could call it
the golden age. Let's call it bronze, maybe, best of the batch in some ways.
I had a girlfriend, pretty young thing, sixteen years old and her daddy
decides he's gonna try to get me busted for statutory rape. Yeah, right.
Sixteen was legal back then, know what I mean? I was gonna kill him, but I
didn't, judge. Had my hand on the gun, feeling perfectly sane, steady,
waitin for him to show. When he does, I had it pointed at him, finger on the
trigger, steady as can be. But I pussied out. The girl's father, ya know?
 Went
on from there and just worked, not like a lot of guys, I could always find a
gig. Usually played a tough guy, but that was okay. Maybe I didn't have that
good of an attitude, but I had a strong work ethic. 1960s, started pulling
some quality jobs, good money, just no star turns. Got married along the
way, coupla kids. And like I say, I worked. Woulda thought after 'In Cold
Blood' that a lot more woulda fallen in my lap, but nah, people hated the
character, saw Perry Smith not Robert Blake, didn't see the craft. Critics
loved it, but in a way that role was Hollywood suicide.
So that worked out good in that I ended up
getting Baretta. Like the third age of Blake. Shit's easy... scuse me, mam.
Television's easy, just got to put in the hours. Got an Emmy for that, you
believe it? Yeah... Lot's of cash. Kept doin TV after that, whatever they
pay for. Divorced the wife. Did Carson. Most money I ever got was about half
a day's work. I put a battery on my shoulder and dared you to knock it off.
Believe that?
More television, and I'm tellin you the
truth, once you start doin TV it's hard to ever get out. Lotta crap, and I
just got tired, you know. Been dancing all my life, never got to pull my own
strings when I think about it. Last
 decent
gig I got was in a David Lynch movie. Didn't even have a name. I was the
mystery man. And to tell you the truth, not only didn't I understand the
character, I didn't understand the movie. Fitting end for a monkey like me,
huh. I mean a cinematic end, not like the big finale.
And this is the fourth age now. You know
what, judge? I may have killed Bonnie Lee. I may have. I don't think I did
it, but God knows plenty's the time that I wanted to. She sure as hell
deserved it. Three and a half years is a long time to think. Memories get
funny. Mine do, that's for sure. I mean, okay, I'm 71, not a real old man,
but I feel pretty ancient inside, ya know? You got me here in this orange
suit, and I'm thinkin that you want to be somehow entertained, yeah, one
last time. Dance, monkey. |
