It's All About Him (9 page)

Aside from the camaraderie and acclaim on the road, Alan could also look forward to coming back to a real home done up in real style. This, too, was a reminder that he'd achieved his dreams, that his long-sought success and status were now a reality. All was well . . . at least as far as he was concerned.

Chapter 10
SPOTLIGHTS AND SHADOWS

I tried to stay on the straight and narrow
But I've walked a crooked path
and I've felt worthy of forgiveness
and deservin' heaven's wrath
Right on the money and off by a mile
Ahead of my time and way out of style

Harry Allen and Gary Cotton, “Life or Love”

O
f course I was happy about Alan's career success. It was our dream come true. I laughed at his funny stories and was thrilled to hear his descriptions of packed arenas and cheering crowds.

But his retelling of the stories wasn't the same as living them. I had had lots of pictures in my mind of what success would look and feel like. And in all of them, I had envisioned that I'd be right by Alan's side, or at least cheering from backstage, while we enjoyed the new adventures of his musical career. Instead, I was lost, confused, and at home with a baby who would not stop crying.

In an attempt to make me feel better, Alan encouraged me to go get a new engagement ring. I couldn't help but feel how different things were now than in the early days of our relationship. Years ago he had carefully saved, plotted, chosen, wrapped, and surprised me with my first small ring . . . and now he wasn't able to even go with me to pick out a new one. We could afford a much bigger diamond—but the price was a lot less of my husband.

I invited my friend Ame to come from Newnan to Nashville for a ring-designing visit. She tried her best to make it fun and to add some excitement to our outing to the jewelers. I chose a gorgeous two-and-a-half-carat marquis diamond with triangular diamonds on each side. As proud as I was of my new ring, I would have given it—or anything else—to feel relieved of my melancholy.

Coming Out of the Blues

I knew about postpartum depression, but having a label for it didn't help. I was overwhelmed, with the feeling of a gray curtain draped over me. I could not just “get a grip” and feel better. I could go through the motions, but I could not imagine this dark fog ever lifting. What made it worse was that friends would tell me I had everything and should be the happiest woman in the world. Regardless of how I “should” feel, I felt alone, inadequate, and overwhelmed.

After confiding in a few close friends, I decided to see my doctor. He helped me deal with some of the anxiety and post- partum issues, and prescribed medication that eventually cleared the clouds of depression. With my brain chemistry in balance, I was finally able to deal with basic things like furniture, and I was able to enjoy some of the fruits of the success we had sought for so long. And, thankfully, Mattie
's colic got better, and she became the cheerful, easygoing person she still is today.

WITH RECORD ROYALTIES ROLLING IN, ALAN PLEADED WITH ME. “DENISE,” HE SAID, “YOU KNOW YOU REALLY
CAN
QUIT YOUR JOB NOW!”

Newly energized and feeling stronger, I was able to interview and hire housekeeping help and a nanny. For the first time in our lives, we weren't watching every penny. We bought furniture. Fun clothes. Cars.And after taking repeated leaves of absence from my flight-attendant position at US Air, I was finally able to let it go. I had held on to that job like it was a security blanket, thinking that if Alan's success and all our new money suddenly evaporated, I could always return to flying. But with record royalties rolling in, Alan pleaded with me. “Denise,” he said, “you know you really
can
quit your job now!”

Good Enough?

We stayed in Crystal Gayle's rental home until we found the house we wanted to buy: a historic Revolutionary War–era farmhouse with ten acres around it and pastures for horses. Renovating, furnishing, and decorating it took a lot of time and focus.

By this time Mattie was toddling around and talking a little. Alan bought me my first full-length fur coat. I put it on, twirling for our little daughter. Mattie reached up to me, petted the thick, smooth fur, and shouted, “Doggie! Doggie!”

Soon after that we were in Washington, D.C. President George H. W. Bush loved country music, and Alan was asked to perform at the historic Ford's Theatre for the president. Afterward, at the White House, I smiled and shook hands with George and Barbara Bush. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, seeing the scene and thinking,
How can this be real? How can all this be happening to us?

The White House was one thing. Life on the road was a little more raw. By this point Alan had been in
People
magazine's “25 Most Beautiful People” issue; he was Nashville's “Best New Male Artist,”“Star of Tomorrow,”winner of “Album of the Year,” and country music's latest sex symbol.
Here in the Real World
, with sales over one million, had gone platinum. The attention was intense. At concerts and events, women reacted to Alan like he was Elvis. The media scrutiny was ever-present. You never knew when you'd turn around and a photographer would be in your face. The challenge was to look good, all the time.

All this “worldly” focus on image and appearance was superficial, sure . . . but I didn't have any other deep concept of real significance and identity that could counter it. The Christian faith I'd grown up with wasn't really a part of my everyday life, so it wasn't the basis of my self-image. I was caught up in the illusions of a
People
-magazine world that worships at the altar of celebrity, beauty, wealth, and fame.

The Gospel had told me the truth that I was special and significant simply because I was a child of God, not because of how I looked or how many good things I'd done. The songs of my youth had told me that “Jesus loves me, this I know, 'cause the Bible tells me so.” I knew that Jesus loved me “just as I am,” as the old hymn put it. And I had sung more times than I could count:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face;
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

But now I wasn't turning my eyes upon Jesus. He seemed far away and irrelevant, the soft-eyed Savior whose portrait hung on the wall of my church fellowship hall back home. And the things of earth were not “strangely dim.” They were as clear and sharp as the glossy magazines with Alan's picture on the cover and maybe a shot of me inside, on the red carpet at the Country Music Awards, wearing some sparkly designer gown.

I wasn't clinically depressed anymore, but the pressures of celebrity compounded bleak feelings I'd had since I was a teenager. “Do I look good enough?” “What are they thinking about me?” “Am I thin enough?”

But now the stakes were much higher: we weren't in little Newnan, Georgia, anymore, where I was cheerleading captain and a big fish in a tiny pond. We were out in the big leagues, the “real world,” though it didn't feel quite real at all. People were building us up, polishing the shiny glow of Alan's celebrity. Money was pouring in. These were big, seductive, confusing forces at work in our world . . . and I was finding that my teenage-sized faith just wasn't strong enough to counter them.

Chapter 11
DELIGHTS AND DISTRACTIONS

If you want to drive a big limousine
I'll buy the longest one you've ever seen
I'll buy you tall, tall trees
And all the waters in the seas
I'm a fool, fool, fool for you
If you want to own a great big mansion
Well I'll give it my utmost attention
I'll buy you tall, tall trees
And all the waters in the seas

George Jones and Roger Miller, “Tall, Tall Trees”

I
buried any feelings of concern or insecurity under the benefits of Alan's success. I now had the time and money to get my I nails and hair done regularly, to get facials and other spa services as I wished, and to shop and enjoy being with girlfriends. I enjoyed the new role of being the “star wife” and getting tons of attention from fans.

Alan had bought a boat that we enjoyed taking to Center Hill Lake, a beautiful deepwater lake about an hour and a half away. It had a lovely enclosed cabin for Mattie to take naps and get out of the sun. Alan made sure I always had a new Cadillac to drive. No need to work or worry. We had no material needs at all—just more and more luxuries.

One of the high points in Alan's early career was his induction as a member of the Grand Ole Opry. We invited our parents to come up from Georgia to share the occasion with us. Alan was performing on the show that evening and had to go early for some media interviews. I decided to take our parents out to dinner before we headed to the Opry House.

We headed off to a local catfish restaurant that I knew they'd all enjoy. It was unusually busy that night. I soon realized that we were going to be late to the Opry, so when we finally got our food, I made everyone wolf it down. The problem was, my mother is just not a wolfer. I told her, quite respectfully, to either put her fried fish fillet down, or bring it with her, because we had to leave.

“Mother,” I said, “I have waited a very long time for this night, and I am
not
going to miss it!”

We left the restaurant, still chewing, and I have never driven so fast in all my life. We flew down the interstate toward the Opry House, whizzing past all the other cars as little Mattie looked out the window, babbling “bye-bye!” to each one. Later, Alan's daddy had a plaque made for me, commemorating my race-car driving and suggesting that I enter the next Indy 500.

But we made it on time to the Opry.

Dick Clark's Unanswered Prayer

When Alan was nominated for his first Academy of Country Music Award, we were thrilled. We flew to L.A. for this big Dick Clark production, one of our first live television award shows. As you know, these award shows are very tightly controlled in terms of time. Every award winner is cautioned to keep acceptance speeches short and to the point so the show can keep on schedule with its commercial breaks.

Well, to Alan's absolute surprise, he won the award for Best New Artist.He walked up onstage, his heart overflowing with joy and wonder, and commenced thanking every single person he could think of.He thanked everyone at the record label and the publishing company.He expressed his deep gratitude to me and our parents. He thanked his second cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbors, and third-grade teacher. He went on and on.He didn't want to miss anybody, and he wanted to make sure that if he never, ever won another award, at least he had already expressed his appreciation to everyone who had anything to do with his music career.

DICK CLARK WAS DOWN ON HIS KNEES, HIS HANDS FOLDED AS IF IN PRAYER, LOOKING AT ALAN AND MOUTHING TO HIM TO PLEASE, PLEASE GET OFF THE STAGE.

First the teleprompter message came on. “Wrap it up!” it said politely. Alan saw it but kept going.

Then the band started to play to encourage him to stop.Alan kept talking, making himself heard over it.

Finally he looked over to the side of the theater curtains, just offstage, and saw Dick Clark. Dick was down on his knees, his hands folded as if in prayer, looking at Alan and mouthing to him to
please, please get off the stage
.

Dick's prayer was not answered. Alan kept on thanking people, and finally the awards show just cut to a commercial.

Ice Cream Cones and Puppy Dogs

Like his first record, Alan's second album,
Don't Rock the Jukebox
, sold more than a million copies and went platinum. He appeared on
The Tonight Show
with Jay Leno,
The Late Show
with David Letterman,
The Today Show
, and
Good Morning America
. He chatted with Regis and Kathy Lee, sang for Oprah, and his long, lanky image filled television screens across America. Jetting from Nashville to New York to L.A., and playing concerts across the country, left him little time to be at home.