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

that covered my protestations and unhappiness with the world in general. These culminated in a proposed amendment to the Constitution of the United States titled “White Male Liberation.” It declared that all of the ill will, hate, war, and rage that mankind was presently experiencing was the result of white male control of society, and that white males needed to change their course if peace and happiness were ever to be secured for all the world. In my drugged state and through my tears, it appeared to be the answer.
    In an extremely emotional fit I fired it off to Prager, who received it with great rage and anger. The document was circulated through whatever means he had devised and the resounding laughter and disgust from inside and outside of the industry tore right through my soul.

Chapter 22
     
    T HE SECOND SCENARIO I CREATED FROM my relationship with Prager was that I received powerful paybacks from the industry I had alienated. Felix Pappalardi, the original bass player for Mountain had produced the first American hit album for the band Cream with Eric Clapton. Prager, being working partners with Robert Stigwood, put himself in as henchman for my former managers, Robert Fitzpatrick and good old Robert Stigwood. They had conspired to mentally and financially stretch me to the breaking point, embarrass me, and even tempt me to suicide.
    A few years later, Robert Stigwood, finding that I had not succeeded in killing myself, launched his premier and failing label, RSO Records. He allowed his company four major releases with a group called The Rockets. The group consisted of two main players, both original Detroit Wheels: Jimmy McCarty and Johnny Badanjek. Much to Stigwood’s dismay, the group never was able to rival the success of Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels. Poor Stigwood. I had auditioned for the group and was turned down by Jimmy and Johnny––just for you folks who keep asking “Why don’t you guys get back together?”
    Anyway, back to the damage done by Prager. I remember it as a quiet, cold but sunny afternoon. Kim was in the living room reading and I was lying down in our bedroom. I didn’t know how to share my depression and fear with Kimberly and I realized it was a terrible burden to her, but in spite of that, she made attempts to comfort me. When I explained the conspiracy theory to her it sounded crazy, and hard for anyone to believe, but it was what had happened. That afternoon she came into the room to check on me and said she wanted to get away from the apartment for a while; did I want to join her? I said I wasn’t up to it, but to go ahead without me and I would be just fine. As the door closed behind her bringing back the silence, I thought how muchwe had been through together and how little happiness we had enjoyed in the course of our struggle. I doubted her love, so how could I ask her to go through another day of this madness? I thought about that time so far distant when I had first walked up to a microphone and discovered the magic of God’s gift to me, and how uncomplicated His love had been presented. I would never know that in such an innocent way again.
    I lay there and played back my accomplishments and disappointments in my big “star” career. I felt the shame, embarrassment, and ridicule I was bringing to my family, friends, and my city. I thought about my high school friends and wished it were possible to go back with Tommy Theut, Tom and Jerry Moore, Jim Moscow and Joey Kubert. To be safe. To be able to laugh again. I thought about my children and what their future would be with a famous and now infamous father who couldn’t manage to support himself.
    I had taken a job at a nearby gas station pumping gas in the winter, but the money was nothing and I kept getting sick. People recognized me, and some were mean and others just laughed. Kim and I were facing another eviction and I thought about Prager, who had brought me to this point. I was in an unbreakable bind. I took his contract to the musician’s union headquarters to see if they could help, and all they did was shake their heads in sympathy.
    I decided I wasn’t going to go through it all again. I was tired and beaten. There are so many more persuasive and compelling arguments for a person to consider taking their own life, but at the same time suicide is an extremely subjective personal deliberation and each individual can be the only judge of how much they can handle. I was weak from the