Devils & Blue Dresses: My Wild Ride as a Rock and Roll Legend

more special and demanding in the sense that my daughter and son, Dawn and Joel, were living proof that I must have been something more than just a partner. I had foolishly thrown away that responsibility to be a star and a man whom I would despise for the rest of my life.
    But now I was becoming a (step) father, which thrilled me. It also came with a few surprises. This time, I told myself, I would make up for the lousy father I was to Dawn and Joel, and I would be a wonderful father to Tom and Ian. It was a nice thought, until I discovered what the role of a stepfather really was: all of the responsibility and none of the authority. Just because I was the co-guardian for Megan’s boys didn’t make me their father. That was something that only years of dedication, love, and friendship might bring as the boys grew into manhood, and finally understood the sacrifices I made for them.
    Megan and I got married, but it got off to a rough start because I hadn’t informed any of my previous female friends. One day––possibly two days––after we were married, Megan discovered I still had telephone numbers and photographs in my phone book of all the women I had been seeing up until the marriage. She called one of the women and was astonished to discover I had not made her aware of our marriage. From my point of view there was no harm in that. It was something I would communicate eventually, or I would simply not contact any of them in the future.
    In Megan’s price list of behaviors that I had to give up was one she absolutely believed was imperative for the success of our marriage. I was told to completely abandonany further communication with all of those women. That is what I did. After all, they were sexual relationships for the most part and Megan more than satisfied that need. Megan was a woman who could carry herself with dignity, respect, beauty, and a charming personality in public, but when it came to the bedroom she was very much . . . let’s just say she was a master.
    Since I was being truthful, I told her that one of the songs on
Rite of Passage
was written for another woman. The title was “By the Feel,” a nice little jazz number I had written while driving down Hines Drive in preparation for the album’s songs. Megan began packing her bags to go back to America. I begged her to stay and after some long conversation she complied, but it let me know just how deeply she held her beliefs. It didn’t seem to matter that the song had been written before we were married.
    This tough stance was applied to my replacement addictions as well. For example, if I gave up women I tried to take up drinking again. If I gave up drinking I tried to start gambling and on and on in the truest tradition of the addictive personality. That was the big picture and through our years together we fought each battle. I felt as if my freedom of choice was being totally taken away and that she was trying to control me. She felt that unless I was willing to give up those pursuits that were destructive to the relationship, we could not succeed. In the end she was right and now I see it. But there would be a few more betrayals on my part before I finally understood what it would take to stay in a relationship with her.
    There were years and years of therapy––couples therapy, family therapy with Megan and me and the children, children’s therapy, and individual therapy for the two of us. In addition, we were ardent practitioners of Al-anon, A.A. and N.A. meetings.

     
    The recording came to an end and I had, with the help of Engerling and Joe Gutc, continued my uphill pursuit of claiming my place in history as a true artist, and not a star manufactured by Bob Crewe. The album was wonderful. There was one song in particular that I thought Huey Lewis might be able to do a good cover on. I didn’t believe I would ever get justice in America from the industry, but I thought an established artist and acquaintance such as Huey might be the way to get my music out. Huey declined, but gave me a rational explanation as to why he couldn’t cover it. He also said he understood why I had chosen him to cover the song. That was good enough.
    Uwe Tessnow again took control of the masters in return for the expensive production. I didn’t mind, because I was slowly reaching my goal and although I consider
Rite of Passage
to be one of my best five albums out of twenty-seven, it did not artistically meet the standard I was aiming