Luck or Something Like It (26 page)

Back to the main story: so we now had a new company, Dreamcatcher. We were also working with Diamond Rio, Sara Evans, and Jo Dee Messina, all of whom had No. 1 albums with us. At about the same time I had come across a new Don Schlitz song, “The Greatest.” Don had written “The Gambler,” and as was the case with “The Gambler,” other artists had been singing “The Greatest” around town, but it just didn’t seem like it could be a hit. After all, it was about baseball and a little boy, not exactly what country radio was playing.

I really liked the song and was doing a radio interview in New York when they asked me if I could play something live. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to try out “The Greatest.” It was just me and a guitar in a radio studio. If the song fell flat, who would care? So I said, “Well, I do have this new song that I have been playing around with. Let’s try it.”

Little boy, in a baseball hat,

Stands in the field, with his ball and bat,

Says “I am the greatest player of them all,”

Puts his bat on his shoulder, and tosses up his ball.

And the ball goes up, and the ball comes down,

He swings his bat all the way around,

And the world’s so still you can hear the sound

As the baseball falls, to the ground.

It was a classic Don Schlitz story song. The phones at the radio station rang off the hook. Mazza gathered the “team.” “We have a hit.” And we hadn’t even recorded it yet. So we did. It was the spring of 1999. We went to a sports supershow, and I did an interview with the legendary sports announcer Dick Schaap, who called the song the second best baseball song ever, after “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” It was there that we met with Tim Richards of Rawlings Sporting Goods. The company agreed to supply us with $10,000 worth of baseball equipment for youth baseball leagues across the country that we could use in radio promotions. To top it all off, I would travel across the country, sitting on a stool at home plate, playing my guitar and singing the song at all the major-league ball parks across the country before the game. It worked. The song, as unlikely as it was to be played on country radio, began to get airplay. Some rock stations even started playing it. I sang it live on the air for my good buddies Mark and Brian at KLOS in Los Angeles when they had me on with home run hitter Mark McGwire. I remember that interview particularly well as I gave them one of my Grammys.

There was one more piece to the puzzle. We needed a video. Kelly in Los Angeles had met a young filmmaker who was only a production assistant in the film world. Actually the only reason Kelly had met with him is that he was married to a friend who was a model I had photographed when she was just starting out years earlier in Athens. She was now Julia Roberts’s stunt double. Kelly looked at this filmmaker’s spec reel, and it was really well done. We didn’t have a lot of money and Kelly wanted to use this new director. It was our company; we could choose whomever we wanted. We took the chance on Shaun Silva.

The simple, gritty, heartfelt video shot in black and white raced up the CMT video charts to No. 1. The song shot up the charts into the Top 20. We now had a hit song and a hit video, and we were still frantically working on having an album.

We put one together called
She Rides
Wild Horses.
It included a number of standards on it, but there also was a song written by a couple of writers, Jim Funk and Erik Hickenlooper, from, of all places, Utah—probably not the hotbed of country music classics. It was called “Buy Me a Rose.” It was perfect for me, as again it said what every man would like to say and what every woman would like to hear. Jim Mazza added Alison Krauss and Billy Dean to the record, and it sounded great.

Buy me a rose, call me from work.

Open a door for me, what would it hurt.

Show me you love me by the look in your eyes.

These are the little things I need the most in my life.

Again, the timing could not have been any better. The song started up the charts. This time we used another video director outside the box. My old stunt double from the
Gambler
films, Dave Cass, was now directing. Kelly had just worked with him on a film and asked if he would like to direct the video. Why not? New company, new director. We shot the video on the beach in Malibu. The video closed with Wanda and me. It seemed a perfect ending for the song. The video went to No. 1 on the video charts.

It was the spring of 2000. Our promotion staff was working with radio frantically to tie the song into Valentine’s Day, again a perfect fit. But the crowning achievement was that the television show
Touched by an Angel
had written an episode based on the song and I sang the song in the show. The song went to No. 1 on the
Billboard
charts. I was now actually the oldest country artist, at sixty-one, to have a No. 1 country hit.

It was a pretty good start. We had taken my career into, really, my own hands and had come out of the gate with a Top 20 song, two No. 1 videos, and my first No. 1 single since 1987. The album had gone on to be certified platinum at that time, the first time that had been done with an independent label.

It was a bunch of firsts that could probably only be accomplished with our own company and Jim taking control of my career. We had the ability to take a chance and bring in new talent. We put together an album in an amazingly short period of time without any of the trappings of having too many decision makers. With the success of radio airplay, my touring took a jump as well. We now had some success.

All things considered, an interesting move for us was when we put together a young country “boy band,” which we called Marshall Dyllon. They were young, they were fresh, they were good looking, and they sang great. Much to our surprise, the by now much respected Lou Pearlman, manager of the Backstreet Boys and ’N Sync, took an interest in them. They were that good. The rest is tabloid history. Need I say more?

You always hear about artists changing managers every day, but not me. Ken Kragen was my first manager, and we were together for thirty-three years until 2001. I felt like Ken wanted to slow down at a time when I needed to ramp up. Jim Mazza, having been president of Capitol Records, became my friend and a stabilizing force in my career, so when I decided to change managers, I went to him. For many years, he guided me and made some great decisions on my behalf. But in 2011, I needed some fresh eyes on my career, and I was running out of time. Jim and his wife, Val, have been two of our closest friends for more than twenty years, which made this separation incredibly difficult, but in my opinion, it was necessary nonetheless. Separations like this are like divorces. You can’t tell what the outcome is going to be until you’ve made the decision. Once I decided to make the change and made it, I learned that Ken Levitan at Vector Management had expressed an interest in managing me, and that sounded really interesting. I think he has created a new interest in my music and style.

Life was good
in
2004, but it was about to get even better. I was sixty-five years old, and Wanda was having twins.

TWINS!

This was such an incredible time for Wanda and me, and, for this book, I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything important that happened in the process, so I asked Wanda if she would write down for me some of her memories of this special moment in our lives.

What she wrote for me was so much more insightful, interesting, and heartfelt than anything I could have written. I thought it would be better for you, the reader, to hear a mother’s excitement—her fears, her joys, and her thoughts—almost as she lived them, and in her words.

Enjoy this. I did.

Kenny and I decided early on that we didn’t want to have kids. We had an exciting life together, traveling and seeing the world, usually on a whim. We knew that kids would change our priorities forever.

Then when I turned thirty-five, BAM, it hit me. I was worried about missing out on having children.

We were on a trip in China with the Mazzas, and I called Kenny into the dressing room where I was getting ready to have dinner. I asked him, “Should we give it a chance to have kids, and if it doesn’t work out, then let it go?” And he graciously agreed! He said, “Yes, I would never want to cause you to miss out on your childbearing years.” So when we returned to Atlanta, we gave it our all.

We came to find out that I had a low ovarian reserve, which meant that I could not possibly do this without IVF. We decided that we would try that. When we finally got to the part of extracting the eggs to fertilize, the doctor was very honest with us. “It doesn’t look promising.” Actually, it was less than a 13 percent chance that the procedure would work. The doctor usually plans on retrieving twelve to thirteen eggs to fertilize. I produced only three. Nevertheless, we decided to carry on with our plan.

After retrieving the three eggs, they put them in a petri dish to fertilize them and hopefully turn them into embryos. What a miracle! Another problem popped up. Only one of the eggs fertilized and the doctor usually wanted at least three fertilized embryos to put back into me. We decided, even against the doctor’s advice, to put the one embryo back and see what would happen.

Now, the waiting game for the pregnancy test to turn pink began.

Kenny and I heard different things from the doctor. He thought he said I would take the pregnancy test in three days. I thought he said ten days. We decided to check it in three days. It didn’t change colors. Heartbroken, we called the doctor. “No,” he said. “Don’t test for fourteen days at least!”

We waited for maybe five more days, and I took the test again. It was only a light pink, but it was pink. I was pregnant.

It was Thanksgiving and almost time to go out on the Christmas tour. I had always been with Kenny on tour and I decided not to change that. I would find the proper doctors on the road to do these tests and we would bus from town to town, like always.

Kenny was scheduled to do a show in Billings, Montana, and there was a critical test I needed to take to make sure the baby was in the right position to develop naturally. We found a great doctor to do the ultrasound for us. We were sitting in his office and he took out a pen and notepad and started to ask us questions. This didn’t sound good to me. “Tell me the truth,” I said, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, my dear,” he very quickly said. “The embryo has split and there are two heartbeats. You are having identical twins.” Kenny thought he said “three heartbeats.” All of us were overwhelmed. My twin sister, Tonia, was there with us and now doing cartwheels and cheering. We had been doubly blessed.

I could go on, detail by detail—I went into labor too early, had to have a needle in my leg for the meds to stop the contractions, got up to 197 pounds and forty-eight and a half inches around the waist—but it’s enough to say despite the 13 percent chance of becoming fertilized embryos, on July 6, 2004, our boys, Justin and Jordan, were born—and life was never the same.

Both were small at birth, and Jordan had to go to the ICU to be monitored closely. I demanded at one point to go visit him. When I saw him all hooked up with wires and tubes, I fainted. I recovered to hold and cuddle him. The next visit I braced myself, and when I again saw him in the ICU, I fainted again.

Having two newborn babies is so nerve-wracking at first; then it all comes so naturally. I was so lucky to have my family. My mom stayed with us to help me with every decision. She raised twins with cloth diapers and no extra help, so she is now my hero, more than ever before.

I had a really hard time the first two to three months. I can remember going to Kenny and crying, “What have we done! I can’t handle being a mom of twins!” Kenny in his calm, patient way said, “Okay, Wanda, the babies aren’t puppies; we can’t take them back. We will get through this.”

My mom had been with us (off and on) for eight months, helping me every step of the way! It was time for her to head home and for me to take charge and handle this on my own. I had, on several occasions, followed my mom to the back door, crying and breaking down, letting her know that she couldn’t leave me. Kenny in his ultimate wisdom told me that my mom was a crutch to me and I really needed to know that I could do this. I thought to myself, He is really gutsy saying this to me. I need my mom! When she left, I quietly cried myself to sleep every night. Then one night I didn’t and realized I could do this. He was right. My mom left and I had to handle everything on my on, and all of a sudden I felt so strong and empowered. I could do this. I did do this!

All the motherly instincts kicked in, and I just followed my intuition. It’s the best job I have ever had—the hardest job, but still the best job!

As I watch Wanda with the boys, I can tell you this as a husband and a proud father of twins, this has truly been a wonderful experience for both of us. I never cease to be amazed what a mom can do when someone has confidence in them. They say that having children at my age can make you or break you. Right now I’m leaning heavily toward break!!

Chapter Nineteen

Looking Back

When you break it
all down, you’re seventy-three years old, you’ve been singing songs for fifty years, and you realize that the most treasured things you have are your family, your friends, and your memories.

Fifty years! It’s been fifty years of touring and I had just spent the day rehearsing and running through the songs from every decade spanning those fifty years for a television special we were taping called
Kenny Rogers: The First 50 Years
. We were rehearsing the entire show in one day, and it could be done only if I was surrounded by people I could depend on and whom I had counted on to be there for most of my career.

Every artist who travels in this business has more than one family whom he or she needs and loves. Certainly I have mine. It’s really hard to believe how long I’ve been surrounded by this incredibly faithful group of people.

I’ll describe my crew by explaining who was there that day at our taping. First (because I think he’s been with me the longest) was Keith Bugos, my sound mixer for the last forty-one years. Every night when I go to work, he’s there. I met Keith in 1969 at a little club in Columbus, Ohio. I had to promise his mother if she would let him go on the road with me I would personally watch over him. I’m thinking next year I’ll make him responsible for himself. He’s sixty now. I think I’ve done a pretty good job with him.

Crossing the stage as I walked off was Gene Roy, who had started out as an eighteen-year-old kid selling T-shirts at my concerts thirty-three years ago. He was now my tour manager, my photography sherpa, and the guy I turn to on a daily basis to survive. Without him I couldn’t. I’ve watched all these guys get married and have kids. I watched Gene and his wife, Kelli, have two sons, Eron and Travis, who are now grown and young men we are all proud of.

Working with Gene was one of my favorite employees, Debbie Cross. She was with me for ten years, then jumped ship and went with Alan Jackson. It didn’t take her long to realize that she really missed me, and we gladly accepted her back. Together Gene and Debbie don’t miss a thing. I promise you this, if she leaves me again, I’m not taking her back.

My band was there for me, flawlessly running through the songs for each artist. Steve Glassmeyer, one of my three keyboard players, who at one time played with Phil Harris, has been with me the longest of any of my band members—thirty-six years. He was a part of the first band I put together immediately after the First Edition broke up. He was also a part of the now-infamous Saudi Arabia tour we did for Aramco Oil in 1977. That was one of the most fascinating tours I have ever been a part of. I’m so glad he’s still around to keep the story straight. I have a feeling I might have blown things completely out of proportion without him.

Randy Dorman is an incredible jazz guitar player who has been with me for thirty-five years. But jazz is kind of an elitist music and not the most commercial. We all love it and everyone in the band plays it for the fun of it. He has also become quite a photographer on the tour, having shot one of my latest album covers. I wonder sometimes how people go from jazz to country; then I remember, they are no different than anybody else—they have to eat.

I remember something Bobby Doyle told me about playing bass in his group. He said, “Look around, every band has a bass player.” But when I got my first band in Nashville you can imagine how shocked I was that there was no bass player. So when my keyboard bass player left, I got one. Chuck Jacobs is a bass player’s bass player. He’s been with me thirty-three years and never missed a show. He played a lot around New York and played with Wayne Cochran, so he has had a lot of musical influences. He knows how to play each genre, and he lets each retain its integrity.

I actually met my keyboard player/arranger, Warren Hartman, in a little club in St. Louis called Mother’s. He was playing with a group called Stanley Steamer. If my memory is correct, I think I produced an album for them. If I didn’t, I should have. Warren has been here twenty-two years, and his use of electronic strings and his orchestral arrangements add such a thickness to my songs, particularly the ballads. Warren has now branched out as a producer, coproducing my
The Love of God
album. What a different sound we would have without him.

Lynn Hammann has been with me for twenty-three years, and before that he played with Frankie Valli. He’s an amazingly understated but highly effective drummer. Sadly, he has just given me notice that because of physical constraints, he will no longer be able to play on the road. I will miss him because he is head and shoulders the most sane guy in our band.

Gene Sisk played with Eddie Rabbitt and now he’s been with me sixteen years. He has the greatest recall for songs of anyone I have ever met. If I ever do a covers album, he’s my guy. One of his greatest attributes is that he can sing high and hard and enjoys performing every night, or at least he appears to enjoy it. He’s the only person in the whole band, including me, who warms up his vocals before each show.

Brian Franklin’s dad, Paul Sr., is a famous steel guitar maker, and Brian’s brother, Paul, is one of the best-known steel guitar players in the world. Brian’s wife, Rosie, sings at the Grand Ole Opry with The Whites. As you can see, Brian is surrounded by the royalty of country music, and it shows. He’s a great guitar player who’s been with me eleven years, and I think he is the only band member who cares about how his hair looks.

Ten years ago I decided to add a fiddle player to the band so that I would sound more country. I always let the band hire new members, because they have to travel with them and be around them dealing with their personalities. When they brought me Amber Randall, she was beautiful and she played great, but not just great—she took second place in a national fiddle contest. She has been such an amazing addition and, boy, has she cleaned up the language on the band bus. She has since married one of our tech guys in the crew, Aaron Corr, who has been here just a little longer than she has. Aaron and Amber have recently welcomed their first son, Owen, into the world. They are a great couple, and I am thrilled and lucky to have them both.

Rounding out my crew are some very unique guys. Technical director Frank Farrell has been with me for seventeen years, having worked with the Who, Paul McCartney, and Steve Miller. He is a techie’s techie. He not only can mix monitors to my very deliberate liking, he also has kept our show ahead of the curve in these fast-paced technological times. If that’s not enough, when our drummer Lynn went down with an injury on our Christmas tour, Frank amazingly stepped in the next night and played drums for the rest of the tour.

Years ago I wanted to expand the look in my lighting department. What better way to expand than to take a lighting director from the Grateful Dead. Jeff Metter has been with me for sixteen years. He may have made the biggest transition of all my guys, coming from the Dead tour to mine. I can honestly say we approached our lighting scheme from a whole different place.

Our newest crew member came fresh out of music school. He was determined to learn the music business as I had, by jumping right in and actually doing it. Brian Parkos has been with me for six years now. He is also an accomplished percussionist. If we lose another drummer and Frank goes down, Brian can step in to take over. We are covered as far as drummers go!

During the taping of the special, I thought about how these guys were my extended family and had been there with me through all my ups and downs, and what a ride it has been . . . for all of us.

It was the night of the show, and it was beginning to feel like “This Is Your Life, Kenneth Ray Rogers,” and it felt good. My mom and dad would have been proud of me.

I was onstage singing and looked out at the people in the audience. I swear it was as if my entire life flashed before me. These were all my friends, and they were performing the songs I had recorded over the last fifty years. It didn’t take long to realize that the first fifty years had been great, but the second would be a bitch!

I saw my older sons, Chris and Kenny, in the audience. They had my younger sons, Justin and Jordan, sitting on their knees. And there was my wife, Wanda, as beautiful as ever, sitting next to them. That was my family. I could honestly say through them, “I have accomplished something,” and this was no small thing.

I noticed the theater was filled with all three of the important things—family, friends, and memories. It was so great to see my manager and one of my best friends for the last twenty-five years, Jim Mazza. Who would have believed the day we met in his office at Capitol Records that he and his wife, Val, would play such a pivotal role in my life and my career? They are such a part of so many special memories and events, and I love how closely entwined our lives have become.

I had to smile when I looked out and saw my good friend Kelly Junkermann. I’ve always loved the idea of giving someone a chance and an opportunity to grow. I realized Kelly was the producer of the very TV show we were now doing. I was very proud of him and flattered to have been a part of his amazing growth.

Speaking of old friends, there, in front of me, sat all the members of the First Edition. They represent such an important and fun part of my life . . . what memories there were: Terry Williams, Thelma Camacho, Mike Settle, and me convincing Terry’s mom, Bonnie, to talk to Jimmy Bowen about getting a record deal on a major label, and we got it; Mary Arnold taking over for Thelma when she left on one day’s notice and doing a great job; Mickey Jones strapping that big Dual Showman amplifier on top of the station wagon and it blowing off as we drove down the highway; the group opening the show for, and getting to spend time with, Richard Pryor.

This wasn’t just my personal life but my professional life as well. Dolly Parton, who had probably single-handedly added ten years to my success with “Islands in the Stream,” was there, cutting up as usual. One of the highlights of the night for me was to hear Alison Krauss and Dolly sing the song I had written, “Sweet Music Man.” It’s a song that is very personal to me, and to hear those two voices together was really quite amazing.

As Lionel Richie took the stage, I remembered how much fun we had had on my boat in the Bahamas and what a milestone in my career it had become when he wrote the song “Lady.” Lionel happens to be the most unique songwriter I’ve ever encountered. He writes the most beautiful melodies, and his lyrics are like musical conversations. Not many people can do that. I’ve asked him time and time again for another song, but now that he is so successful I think he feels that if they are good enough for me, they are good enough for him.

They just kept coming: there was Smokey Robinson, Wynonna Judd, Billy Dean, Linda Davis, Chris Isaak, Sheena Easton, all there onstage. Tim McGraw, Billy Currington, and Darius Rucker couldn’t make it live, but they had taken the time out of their busy schedules to film songs and congratulations for me. Believe me, I know how hard it is to interrupt your schedule for something like this, and it did not go unappreciated.

The Oak Ridge Boys were there sitting in the front row. These guys had been my friends both musically and personally since this whole thing started. In 1981, they helped me headline the tour with Dottie West when Jerry Seinfeld had missed his opening.

What a night and what a way to remember my life and my career. The one thing I am certain of is that you can never underestimate the value of true fans. There are two women who have been to 1,078 of my concerts, Susan Bradley and Sharman Pirkle. They’ve even dragged James, Sharman’s husband, to the majority of the concerts. There they were sitting out in the audience. They have never expected special treatment, so we try to give it to them. At one point we were doing a show and the opening comedian noticed the girls in the front row with the roses that they traditionally give to me. Attached to the roses was a card with the number of the shows they had attended. Having no idea what the number represented, he asked, “What are the flowers for, girls?” They replied, “They are for Kenny. We are big fans,” at which time he focused on the number on the attached card. He immediately replied, “You girls are no longer fans. You are stalkers!” They were both shocked and delighted. If that’s true, I wish there were more stalkers like them.

As the lights went out, the music stopped, and all my friends went home, my thoughts went from what I
had
done to what I
will
do.

Professionally I have started a new album for Warner Bros. Records, produced by Dann Huff, who produced my favorite of my albums,
Water and Bridges.
I am convinced that my musical career will take care of itself, one way or the other, but my personal life has always seemed a little more daunting.

Wanda and I just celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary. We’ve been together for twenty years now, and I know a lot of people who would have lost a lot of money on that bet.

This has been by far the most compatible relationship I have ever been in. I don’t know why, but from day one, with all its age complications, it has simply . . . felt right.

Wanda is a rare, unique woman, who I think understands me better than anyone else and accepts me with all my quirks and silly needs. I am honestly so blessed to have a wife that provides me with such a secure-feeling future. I love her more than she knows.

Now Justin and Jordan present a whole different set of problems, all good, just different. You have to remember I wasn’t around for the terrible teens with my first two boys, Kenny and Chris, so I really have no idea what to expect. I do know this: I want to be there this time with Justin and Jordan and help shape their lives and their thought processes as they get older.

Interestingly, I have no idea what their interests will be, just as my mom and dad could have never been prepared for my choices. But I think if we instill good values in them, let them know they are loved, help them with the difficult choices but let them make their own when they can . . . they will survive. I am so proud of the men Chris and Kenny have become; I can only hope Justin and Jordan turn out as well.