A written history of Bobby Jameson and his search through the past. Working my way back through the jungle of drug addiction and booze. My family life as a kid was the breeding ground for addicts. No self worth, no help, and one chance to get out alive. Music was the horse I rode out on...and the music business was the horse I rode into hell. Pronounced dead twice from drug over doses, I lived to tell how the pursuit of fame is as deadly as any narcotic I have ever used.
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Tuesday, December 18, 2007
(part 9) EACH TIME I HEAR THE NAME TONY ALAMO
There is no explanation for this story. There is no hidden meaning. It was just one more confusing day in my life with Tony. The reason I posted this, is because for 43 years I have not forgotten it. Like a mental tattoo, it is just there in my mind, brought to life each time I hear the name Tony Alamo.
I still do not know why he sent me there. I was promoting a record and then out of nowhere this turned up. It is of primary importance to me, in that it preceded the eventual collapse of my relationship with Tony Alamo. This episode signaled to me, in the deepest way possible, that Tony was thinking in completely different terms than I was. He now appeared to be using me for some other purpose of his, which I could only guess about based on what I knew.
The ill child and my unwitting part in it, caught me completely off guard and placed me in a no win battle with myself. What did it mean? I didn't and still don't know, but I know it meant something to Tony. It caused me to change, in some final way, my entire view of what I was doing with him. I began questioning deeply whether I should continue to do anything with this man, who had single handedly put me in the life I was living.
This kind of cross purposes split me in half and left me with two completely different options to choose from. A crossroad! What was I going to do? How at 19 years old was I supposed to figure this damn mess out? Part of me still needed Tony and part of me was sure I had to get away from him before more weird things occurred. I knew for sure that Tony had been on some sort of God trip, but now I had to consider what that really meant. I had been kind of ignoring it, as best I could, hoping that it was just some trip he got on when he smoked pot. But in light of the kid in the bedroom, I began looking closer, a lot closer, at Tony's ranting about God.
There had been spooky overtones about religion in that house, and I had felt like a captured rat in that room with the priest and people falling to their knees. Hell I could have easily just assumed that the kid was excited to see me and was jumping up and down on an adrenaline rush. But those people seemed to take it to the next level, whatever that was. They appeared to me to be assigning some greater meaning to it all. Anyway, that's why I pretty much just ran out of the place and didn't talk to anyone. I did not want to discuss what had happened. I was 19. I was a damn pop star, not anything else. I was still that kid from nowhere who wanted to be famous.
Go to part 10