At that point the same lady behind me started to laugh and said “Yeah you have people, maybe under the bridge with the other trolls.” I pleaded with the ticket woman to try again but she told me “All your cards had been canceled. I am under orders to collect them.” As I turned in a dejected manner, some non- descript guy who might have been with the woman behind me pushed me on the shoulder to move me along. I was not suspecting it and fell to the ground. People laughed and no one bothered to help me to my feet. My initial reaction was to wonder why my cards were not working and my second thought was did anyone in this line ever come to see me play here when I was on stage not that many years ago?
I sat on the majestic steps leading up to the great hall feeling sorry myself. Did I not even have enough cash to go see my hero Bob Dylan in concert? This seemed utterly impossible to me. What could have gone wrong with my finances? Had Carl given up being my agent and handler of my finances? How was I going to pay the hotel and get a ticket to venture back home? I barely had enough money in my pocket to eat. I have no idea how long I sat there. It could have been five minutes. It could have been an hour. My head was spinning.
A man came and sat next me. He started to quiz me about if I had lost something. He babbled on about wanting to return what was lost. The guy seemed so sincere about returning something to me, but he spoke in riddles. It all became scary. He took my photo as if he was a fan then stumbled down the steps.
Seconds later a second person sat next to me. “I am so sorry Mr. James our citizens are not normally this way. We all have our bad apples.” I turned my neck ever so slightly to look at her face and she seemed vaguely familiar to me. “You don’t remember me do you Mr. James?” Before I could utter a sound she said, “It’s Feona, I took you and others on a tour here a few years back. I am now the manager of the ticket office. I wanted to see what all the commotion was about. I didn’t recognize you at first but when the agent showed me the card, I wanted to see if it was really you. I remember you teased me all during the tour of the building but it was one of my favorite tours. Will you thank your wife for me please? A few days later the nicest thank you card arrived in the mail for me. Rarely did anyone ever bother to thank me. Not only did you buy me dinner for my birthday, your wife sent me a beautiful card from a museum in Paris.”
I didn’t know if I should cry or ask her if she knew what was going on with my credit cards. I could only say “My wife died last year from cancer and yes she was an incredible lady, thank you.” Feona pulled back from me and seemed a bit shaken.
We both sat quietly for a moment when she started to say “I’m so sorry for your loss.” There was going to be more when I stopped her and asked her, “What happened to my cards?” She sighed deeply and would only say, “There was a hold put on them, someone seems to have cut you off from your money. Let’s go inside and maybe we can find out what happened.”
She helped me to my feet and we went inside the hall. Once inside I scrambled for Carl’s number in my wallet. What was once etched in my brain was now a series of numbers mostly forgotten by me. Feona called Carl for me. We waited patiently for him to come to the phone. We sat in her office waiting on her speaker phone to make a sound. “Dylan, this is Carl, it’s time for you to come home. I got a call from Lorenza. She told me you were stalking her in Italy. So we knew you were in Europe somewhere. We finally decided the only way to get you home was to cut off your money. Tell me where you are staying and I will make sure the hotel bill is paid. I’ll have a plane ticket waiting for you at closest airport. You get on that flight and come home or you will be on your own. This has gone on far too long now. Get your ass home. Someone will meet you here in New York. I also spoke with your mother in law as well as your father. Everyone is in agreement that it’s long past the time you clean up. We will talk more but you either take this offer or find your next meal on the street.”
I didn’t know if I should scream at that moment or shrink in embarrassment in front of Feona. I assured Carl I would be on the flight. The phone clicked with only a dial tone resounding in my ear. I was now so embarrassed. I didn’t know what to say or do. I thanked Feona for her assistance and she asked if I needed a ride back to the hotel. I thanked her again but refused and started to walk to the door. Before I could leave she handed me a small envelope. “Open this when you are ready to return. I looked up your bio in our records before I headed outside earlier. I wanted to see your photo again to see if it was really you sitting on the steps. Happy Birthday! ” I was totally dumbfounded. I had no clue that it was my birthday the next day.
It took me hours to walk back to the hotel. It was not because it was a long distance. It was more because I knew my life was about to change. I was now passing my mid thirties had two children waiting for me to be a dad and a band who I had not recorded with in the past few years. I was too dependent on different colored pills and a loss I could not explain in my mind beyond the loss of my wife. My injuries from the crash were a distant memory, other than my back aching in cold weather. I thought about my life and what was in my future. When I made it to the hotel, there was a hotel employee who was instructed to make sure I made it to my room and get washed up. He was also assigned to take me to Heathrow Airport the next morning. I actually had a very good night’s rest.
The next day I awoke feeling oddly better in some way. On the flight back to New York, I could swear the man who sat next to me on the steps of The Royal Albert Hall was in the seat next to me. We had a nice talk. Somehow he made me feel at ease over what was now in store for me. Carl and Sasha met me at the gate. Much to my surprise I was not given the opportunity to go to my apartment or get a hot meal. I was taken to a private room inside the airport for a discussion with Carl. I was going on another plane flight to the west coast of the US. Sasha would be accompanying me on my next flight.
There was also another big guy in a black jacket and gold watch who I was not sure if he was there to watch me or Sasha but he was accompanying us on the next plane ride. I must have slept the entire plane and car trip. I only remember pulling into a large gate with a long winding road leading up a large white building that looked as sterile on the outside as it did on the inside. Everything was in its proper place, with most of the staff looking identical to me. Sasha held my hand all the way through the check in process. I walked down a long polished hallway, she left me with only a kiss on my forehead and a promise she would be ready to record when I was better.
The first day at the facility I was introduced to others living in the building. I was told I would be responsible for cleaning my own room as well as making my bed and attending regular meetings with a counselor. It was not really what I had expected but then again I had no real idea of what to expect. All my baggage was taken from me and later returned to my room. I assumed it was to find my pills or clean my clothes. Either way my pills were gone. I was allowed to roam the building, watch television and socialize with others most of the day. I met some really interesting people. Some had been there several times and were fighting demons far greater than mine. They all had different issues, from being fired from high profile jobs, to losing spouses. But everyone had one issue that was the same, they were all drug addicts.
I met a counselor the first afternoon. She asked me a series of questions I really didn’t want to answer. I had been all through this with Dr. Summers and Pastor George. I was accused of not opening up with her but she was a total stranger. I had no more desire to speak with her, than I did others who had tried. She assured me she would get me to open up. That only assured me even more I would not. Our session ended with me counting the ceiling tiles.
The guy in the room next door started to ask questions about whom I was and if he knew me. At first I went by the name Stu but he was not buying my story. After a few days I told him my other name and what I did for a living. The news went through the center like wild fire and others came around asking me to recount stories from the road. They all seemed so disappointed when I
really didn’t have your typical sex drugs and rock and roll highlights they were all expecting. I was there about two weeks when we were in a group session. Someone wanted to know why someone who had so much could fall prey to drugs. I guess I had never really considered it in those terms but my only response was “Define having it all.” It did however make me think in my room when I was alone later that night.
After about three weeks, I started to adjust to my time at the center. The only drawback was that I asked if I could have a guitar and they refused. I considered it part of my therapy to play again, they did not agree. It seemed like the weight of the world had been lifted from me. My mind was starting to function on a higher level again. I craved my guitar. I kept remembering back to my plane ride from London to New York when that strange man kept telling me how he had given me my soul back. I was not sure I believed him, but I did feel different.
I was now shifting from enjoying my time to wanting to do everything they asked so that I could start to write and play again. They did allow me visitors during the fourth week. Linda dropped in to see how I was progressing. I had not had any drugs of any kind for close to a month. I was in fact feeling like my life was being restored. Linda and I discussed getting back together to write again very soon. It seemed the center was going to release me in another week. I knew I was not all the way back. There was still guilt in my heart for not being a better husband when Elise needed me the most, but I needed to be strong for my daughters and head home.
I started to open up with the counselors just so they would release me back into the world. I knew after about two weeks that I could leave at any time, but I now wanted to finish what they deemed appropriate. I was not the expert and I knew I was better than I was when I entered. I wanted to get out of there and reach for my guitar. I wanted to be clean of drugs from my system. The only thing I did like about the counselors was that they didn’t try to put me back on anti-depressants. I had opened up enough I guess in our sessions that they concluded I really didn’t need more drugs. After six weeks I was ready in my mind to return to society. The center agreed. My credit cards were given back to me but Carl did warn they would be cut off instantly if I was suspected of returning to drugs.
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Chapter 24
The fall in North Carolina was my favorite time of the year. My daughters were happy to see me and I felt like I was ready to be a real father. We did homework together again, only this time I actually knew some of what I was talking about in 5th grade science. Mind you I did say some, not all. When Deborah asked again to learn the guitar, this time I was thrilled to teach her. While they were in school, I would practice and write my music. I contacted all the members of the band. We discussed making another record. Everyone was in agreement that spring of 1994 was time to reunite. I thought by then I would have had time with my daughters before disappearing again. Plus this would allow time to write with Linda. Rose and George kept a close eye on us. They had practically moved into my house while I was away and had become even closer with my daughters. It was not easy to assert final decisions since I had never really been the heavy hand in the house. I was having a harder time with Rose than I was with the girls. I guess that was to be expected, so I tried to show a lot of patience with it all.
I convinced Linda to come for the month of January so we could write. My lyrics were not nearly as dark but something was still missing with it all. I could not put my finger on it, however Pastor George would stop by and tell me “Your soul is healing. It is time to be at peace now Dylan, it’s time to accept God back into your life.” I told him there were exactly five hundred and seventeen tiles in the window behind the Alter. I promised to visit on Sundays again since my daughters were used to going with Rose and George. I teased him that maybe the church was missing my envelopes with a nice check more than me counting tiles. He was yet another who never appreciated my humor, which was all returning to me. Linda arrived begrudgingly after the first of the year. I to remind her of her promise that if I stayed clean for ninety days, she would come to my house to write. I had passed the threshold of time staying clean.
Before heading back into the studio, I wanted to play to a live audience again. I started to play for patients at the local hospital. I also went back to the rehab center where I had spent many months and played in the lounge for the staff and patients. My mind was clear, my playing was crisp. I felt fine. My playing was much improved compared to older self inflicted drug period. I could also play over four hours at a sitting again with focus, which I had not been able to do since the accident. I was happy but not truly at peace. I was even less at peace when my daughters started to cry when I started to pack for New York. I promised to bring them both to New York during spring break and let them see the studio. Carl put the finishing touches on our contracts with Mr. Altos. I was off again to New York during the first week of March.
Maybe it should have been expected. The chemistry with the band was not what it was in the past. They had all tasted success in different ways. The band was now secondary. Everyone had a strong opinion now. The sessions were a mess. We had grown into different factions with Linda and I wanting to go back to a more pop and rock sound with the fiddle and Billy and Jack wanted a much harder edge. Duke wanted strings and Sasha wanted to spend her time on the phone running her other interests. Debby wanted it all to hurry up so she could get home to her kids.
I was stressed out. I was doing every mental exercise I was taught at the clinic. I refused to resort to drugs again but it was not easy. We were crumbling as a band right in front of my now very clear eyes and mind. The worst part of it all was that we had some very good songs. My playing was the best it had been for years. I was actually looking forward to playing to an audience again. We all parted for a week. I went back to grab up my daughters during spring break and headed back to Disney for a few days away from all the bickering.
Funny thing happened at Disney. I looked at my daughters as real people. I know that’s an odd thing to say, but I had never really looked at them as people with their own personalities and opinions. Maybe it was because my mind had not been clear really since they were both very young or maybe because they were not old enough to express real thoughts that seemed to matter to me. But for the first time, I felt connected to them in a way I never had in the past. On the drive home from Orlando, Diana wanted me to promise that I would not leave her again. It was a very hard discussion since I was a musician. However, I knew she was talking on a deeper level. It took every bit of self control I had to not start tearing up right in the car. It was at that moment I realized how much they both missed their mother. How could I balance this in the future? I had to be on the road, yet still be a single parent. It was something I really had to give some serious thought.
It was the second most difficult day in my life behind the death of my wife. I had to leave my daughters behind yet again. They had school. I had a contractual obligation to deliver a finished product. I thought about taking them with me to New York and either missing school or putting them in school there, but then they would be missing their friends and grandparents. That was not a good option. No, I had to leave them behind once again and do what I do. I did have true remorse in leaving them behind but I didn’t really see another option. I was also responsible to my band and record company.
Once back in the studio, I put my foot down and created the music that I wanted to create. The last record was a total band effort as far as songs. This time I had to take us back to our roots. Duke eventually agreed with me however Billy threatened to quit and even did for a day. He took Jack with him. I was now too old for his childish behavior and told him if he was not back the next day we would proceed without him. It made for many cold stares in the studio and some tense moments but they both returned. Over the course of the next three months, we finally finished the project. We delivered it to the record company with a note from me that I was retiring from the band. I talked it all over with
the other members. We disbanded. There would be no tour, no more recordings and no more bickering. I was going to retire to my daughters. I decided that being a father was now more important than being a rock star. My kids deserved that from me.
News flash, females are odd creatures. They are emotional, they can be mean and vindictive then smile as they rip your heart out. Well I think I read that in a book somewhere, or saw it in a movie. Trust me; little girls are not the easiest on a single dad. I loved them to death as they grew up, but it was a constant head scratcher from day to day. One day it was the wrong color jeans, the next, boys are scum creatures not of this earth. I was told however that I was not a boy but a dad, lucky me. Somehow we all survived puberty. Many a day I wanted to relieve my nerves with some pretty colored pills but I knew I could not do that to myself again. I never left North Carolina expect for vacations with the girls for the next several years.
I had a small studio built in my home and was hired to write a few movie soundtracks. Most were small budget films but it satisfied my creative juices. I didn’t want to retire from the music business but I did want to raise my daughters and make Elise proud. I know I surprised not only Rose and George but also my own parents. I think I surprised myself as well. I think part of it was me trying to rid myself of all the guilt I was still carrying around for not being a better husband for Elise. There were days when my girls were in school where I would sit on the porch all day long and question why God would give me so much then take it all just as quickly. I had never made peace with that in my mind. Maybe I felt entitled to the perfect life. I mean all the time growing up I went to church and did all the things I was told would get me into heaven. I tried to live by the principles I was taught as a kid and yet I had lost my ability to play for a few years. Then out of nowhere, my wonderful wife is taken from me. I was addicted to pain killers and other tablets not knowing what they were all doing to my system. I still felt I was being punished for crimes I had never committed. I wanted to get past all that but I really didn’t know how.
A Beautiful Song: A Musical Soul Story Page 22
