Road Trip Pt. 02

At the end of the drive were several buildings and about twenty cars. From the largest structure, I could hear the muffled sounds of a country band playing. A couple of photographers stood near the parked cars. They showed unusual interest in us as we rode up. As I stopped and parked the bike, each of them started taking pictures of the two of us. At Crystal's whispered suggestion, neither of us said a word or responded to the dozen or so questions hurled at us by the two reporters.

Inside, Crystal said, "I'll explain later about the paparazzi, but for now just come with me. I think you'll enjoy yourself. Of course, if you get bored you can leave; I'll find a ride home from one of the band or my agent."

I followed her down a short hallway, and we entered a room with the largest mixing board I'd ever seen. In front of it sat two men in casual dress, nudging various slide controls to manage the audio they'd already recorded. In front of them, on the other side of glass wall, nine musicians stood listening to the playback in a large recording studio. Two backup singers – a man and a woman – also sat on tall stools in the studio listening to the playback. Each instrument and singer had their own microphone, and there was space for several more singers or instruments.

Everyone in the control room greeted Crystal with smiles and hugs. Her tardiness was not mentioned. Crystal introduced me to Terry Ross – her agent, Dan – her publicist; Ben and Wayne, the control panel gurus; Dave – her producer; and Eric, the agent from the music company she'd signed with. She waved enthusiastically to the band and singers on the other side of the plate glass, and they all waved back with smiles. I could tell Crystal was well liked.

Dave and Crystal went into a huddle right next to me. He explained about the songs he wanted to 'lay down,' and how far along the band had gotten with the music tracks. I listened to a whole new vocabulary about music and recording that I'd never been privy to before. I found it fascinating, yet I had a lot of questions about what was going on.

After a few minutes, Crystal picked up some sheet music and went into the studio. The band members filed out for what I assumed was a cigarette break. Ben announced he was starting the instrumental track for 'Country Playgirl,' and I figured out from his comments that they'd worked on the song a few days before.

Crystal laid out the sheet music on a stand in front of her, and put on a large, oversize pair of headphones. Ben hit a button on the panel, and we could all hear the music of the song without the lead singer over speakers in the control room. Crystal mouthed the words throughout the song and did some dance steps here and there. She had a serious and intent look on her face. I could tell that she was a professional about her singing and took this work seriously.

At the end of the song, Crystal's voice came over the speakers: "OK, I think I'm ready to try this again when you are."

Ben said, "We are ... and we're starting the music in five, four, three, two, and ..." He made a gesture to the studio with his hand to indicate the recording had started.

The music started playing and four bars in Crystal's clear voice came through the speakers. I stood in awe at the quality of her voice and how well she sang the song. I never heard a missed word or a skipped beat throughout the rendition. Her voice had a slight edge to it that separated her from the 'wanna-be' country singers; this girl had 'it.' She had as distinctive a voice as Reba McEntire or Dolly Parton, a characteristic that would serve her well and ensure a long career. As far as I could tell, the song was perfect too.

I guess the others around me also thought her singing got an A+, because about ten seconds after she ended the track, everyone applauded. Ben's voice broke through the applause, "Wow, darling that was perfect. You nailed that. Does anybody think we need a retake?" The silence in response to his question proved the answer.

Crystal came back in the control room with the sheet music. Dave congratulated her on a job well done and handed her another song; she studied the notes and words on the pages. I could see the name of the song on top of the first page: 'Texas Dawn.' As they looked over the music line by line, she'd ask him a question about what mood he wanted, or the edginess, tempo, slurs, timbre, color, crispness of a word, where accents belonged, reverb, and so on – new vocabulary. Dave had all the answers; he seemed to be the 'go to' guy for this session.

I listened in, soaking up the recording scene; this was an intimate look at Nashville I hadn't expected, and I was enjoying every second like a kid in a candy store with a fifty-dollar bill. To my surprise, everyone accepted my presence without question; they were so friendly and inclusive. Sometimes, one of the professionals even asked for my opinion about the music in some way.

Crystal listened to the instrumental part of the new song when she was back in the studio. As she did, a few of the band members filtered back into the control room to watch her recording. Don introduced me to the band. Terry took snapshots with a high-end camera using only the ambient light. I even got included in some.

After the playback Crystal said, "Let's make a run at this one, OK?" She sat up on a tall stool and adjusted the microphone to her height. I thought she looked so sexy, and wondered how she could fend off all these males around her, yet everyone acted professional.

Ben nodded and counted down again. I listened, and this time I could hear some slurred words, a hiccup when her tempo fell behind the instrumental track, and flatness in her voice. At the end of the song, she said, "Let's do it again, but only the first verse and coda."

Ben counted, music started, she sang – this time with more animation and zeal. I liked it, but still something was missing. They tried it a couple of more times until Dave called a break.

Just as the break started, some of the people who had been on the stranded bus arrived – three women and two men, including Brad the Bodyguard. I nodded to him, and he looked pleased that I hadn't kidnapped his ward.

Crystal came into the control room and stood beside me as she talked to Dave, "I can't put my finger on it, but something is keeping me from making this song come alive."

I said in a low voice, "I know. I figured it out after your last try."

Dave, Crystal, Ben, Wayne, Terry, and everyone else in the control room looked at me. I said, "This song should be a duet – oh, it should emphasize Crystal, it's her song – but you need a male voice at the start of each stanza, and for the last line of the song – maybe for a few others. This is an unbalanced duet."

There was silence in the room. I felt like a teenager who had loudly farted in church.

After the silence felt too heavy, Dave said excitedly, "That's it. That's it." He looked around the room, "Crystal, whom do you want to do the duet with you? " Crystal gave it some thought, and I could see her considering her backup singers or the members of the band as she looked around the studio. After a few seconds, she turned to me and said with a saucy smile, "Will you give it a try? It's your idea. You can sing, can't you?"

My face must have reflected my shock and horror at the request because everyone around us laughed. I bumbled out that I'd never sung professionally, and while I felt I did reasonably well singing along with music on the radio or in the shower, I wasn't sure my voice would help the song at all. Everyone ignored my protestations and urged me to give it a try. Crystal led me into the studio, and as we walked, she told me I'd be fine and that half the country singers couldn't carry a tune anyway. She said sarcastically, "Think of Bob Dylan or Willie Nelson – they can't sing for shit, but they're big stars." She made me laugh, and I relaxed a little.

We stood at the mic and rehearsed the words of the song in low voices. Crystal coached me here and there, and I pointed out the parts where I thought I should lead or join in. I took a colored pencil to the sheet music and marked where I'd come in and exit. We tried a few lines here and there throughout the song. As we did, I found my voice limbering up and my ability to carry the melody improving. Crystal was supportive and lavish in her praise when I got something right. She was so easy to work with.

We had the instrumental played and mouthed the words in time to the music; Crystal used one finger like a conductor with a baton to get me in sync with both the music and her. Next, Wayne came in and set up another microphone next to Crystal's mic, but in a way so we could both see the same pages of sheet music and see each other.

Dave said he wanted to try it, 'just for kicks.' Ben counted down from the control booth, the instrumental started, and I took my cue to sing. In my husky, twangy, country music voice that I usually used when working around the house, I sang the opening line of the poem that had been turned into the song: "Texas dawns comes early when you've been awake all night." Crystal joined in with her lines, her crisp and distinctive voice carrying the song forward, we shared a line or two, and then she took off with the main part of the song. I'd join in on the refrains, and then the two of us sang the ending together: "So Darlin' let me wake with you for all your Texas dawns; I promise that I'll love you ... forever." The love song actually had some teeth to it, as well as tenderness. I thought it did have potential as a hit – as a duet, but that was only my humble opinion. I wondered who they'd get to really sing with her, someone famous no doubt.

After the ten seconds of silence, the sound from the control room got piped into the studio: applause – everyone in the control room applauded. Crystal and I gave each other high five, and then she hugged me and told me how proud she was of my singing: "Jim, you're a natural. You can sing on my recordings anytime." I was stunned and considered her words a high compliment.

Dave was jumping around the control room with joy, and so was Terry. They had us do the song or parts of it about two-dozen more times that afternoon, varying all sorts of things for each recording. I thought it got better and better with each tweak any of us made.

During the many variations of the song, my voice adjusted to singing aloud, and I got used to being recorded. Everyone lauded praise on me for joining in with Crystal, and for making the song a real hit. We tried two other songs 'just for kicks' after Dave and Eric said they were satisfied with at least today's rendition of 'Texas Dawn;' those also went well. Crystal and I were having fun singing together.

When we broke, Terry pulled Dave, Eric, and Crystal aside, and I could see they were having a serious talk. Next I knew; Terry gestured for me to join them. "Jim, if you're willing I'd like to sign you up – officially – not only for this song, but for a couple of others on the album Crystal is making. She wants you in on this too. We think you're a real addition to the music we're making." Crystal nodded enthusiastically as he talked. She grabbed ahold of my arm and hugged me to her to encourage me to accept the offer.

I was still in a daze and didn't really believe that this was happening. A few hours ago I had just been an ordinary guy about to tour Nashville. Now, I was being offered a record contract? Then my thoughts went back to what I had been thinking as I rode out of Memphis – I had concluded that I needed to focus on being more creative and more social, and even on the look out for a job that I could enjoy. Could it all have been waiting for me just around the corner by the bus? Should I take a chance and see where this leads me? I quickly decided to accept Terry's offer with the caveat that he realized this was a totally new venture for me, and I'd probably stumble around a lot trying to get used to singing and recording. I explained that I'd need a lot of practice and someone to aim me in the right direction. I wanted to be sure I was a help and not a hindrance to their productivity.

Crystal kissed my cheek and told me how happy she was that I'd signed on. She promised to be my guide until I learned the ropes. The two of us also talked about 'synchronicity' – my coming along that road at just the right time, and then turning out to have the perfect voice to complement her singing.

As people started to pack up and leave for the evening, Crystal cued me in about the paparazzi – the few photographers that we'd find outside, and how to respond or not respond to their questions. "Because you're with me, there'll be some buzz about our relationship. They try to build mountains out of mole hills." She laughed and went on, "You can say anything you like – the more outrageous the better. It'll help me sell records and keep my name out there, and that's part of this whole game – name recognition." She thought for a moment and added, "Hey, it'll get your name out there too – that'll be good for the album we're making together."

As Ben and Wayne started to work editing some of the tracks we'd done to try to create a 'perfect' version of 'Texas Dawn,' Terry took me aside and we arranged to get together the next day to work out the details of my contract. I wanted to let Terry know that I still had my road trip to finish before I committed myself to many more recordings. Then Terry and some of the band members left, followed by Crystal and me.

Sure enough, as soon as I came out of the building behind Crystal, I experienced momentary blindness from the flashes of a dozen different cameras. Crystal pulled up next to me, and we put our arms around each other and posed in a natural way; more pictures were taken. She then turned to me and said, "Let's kiss." I was willing, and so we smooched for the photographers; a million flashes went off as photos were taken.

Next, a dozen questions came at us simultaneously – many to me alone. "What's your name? What's your relationship with Crystal? Are you in music? Where are you from? Do you always ride that motorcycle? The bike has Massachusetts plates on it; is that your home?" On and on, the questions came without allowing us to answer.

Crystal nudged me to talk. I held up one hand; "The motorcycle is a 1988 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail, and I rebuilt it about three months ago – from the ground up. Yes, originally I am from Mass – I grew up there, in Dillon."

Crystal chimed in, "This is Jim Mellon – M-e-l-l-o-n – and he is a great country singer you're going to be hearing a lot about soon. We're working together on my next album that'll be titled 'Texas Dawn' – we were working on the title song and a couple of others today. The album may not come out for a few months – you'll have to ask Eric Bennett about that; I do know that we'll start using some of the songs in our concerts soon."

One of the paparazzi yelled, "Are you two an item?"

As I handed Crystal the motorcycle helmet, she grinned and whispered to me in a low voice, "You answer that one."

I turned to the reporter and said with a high degree of flippancy, "Of course, we're an item. Why do you think she invited me to be on her album? I love 'everything' about her – and I mean everything!" With that, I gave a broad wave to the dozen reporters, and mounted the bike in front of Crystal. Crystal hugged me tightly to the photographers' delight. The Harley roared into life when I hit the ignition switch, more camera shots were taken, and we rolled down the driveway amid more flash photos being taken.

After we got back on the main road, I yelled over my shoulder, "I don't know where I'm going." Crystal started giving me directions to the Grasslands part of Nashville – a very pleasant upscale part of the city with some huge houses. Eventually, she had me turn into the driveway of a mansion. She punched in a code on a box beside the gate, and two large iron gates slowly opened to allow us access to the property. The house stood hidden from the street by lush landscaping. I drove up and around the circular driveway and parked the bike in front of the house.

Despite the encouraging words at the recording session, I expected this was the end of my relation with Crystal. She hopped off and handed me the helmet, and I rummaged in a saddlebag for her hat.

She said, "Well, come on, come in. You won't disappear on me now, will you?" She laughed and said, "After all, we're an 'item,' and you love 'everything' about me. That was perfect, by the way – what you told the press. They'll chew on that for weeks. You're a huge mystery to all of them, so they will speculate and prevaricate. I think it's all a game. I can't wait to see what the tabloids come up with this weekend."

Crystal led me into her home, explaining that she'd just bought the place. In the living room, a pleasant older woman met us. Crystal introduced her as Emma, and I discerned that she was the housekeeper. Crystal suggested that she bring us some wine by the pool after my house tour. Emma recommended some beef stroganoff that she'd prepared, and we both accepted her dinner offer. I realized singing and the hour had made me very hungry.

Sitting by the pool a few minutes later, Emma brought a bottle of wine and two glasses. An older gentleman, whom I learned was Walter, Emma's husband and a caretaker for the property, brought a tray, and laid out our dinners for us on a patio table. A large swimming pool dazzled the foreground of the backyard.

Crystal and I sat and ate, and started to learn about each other. She told me briefly about her life – that she'd begun singing when she was ten years old, even doing some demo tapes and trying to break into the industry as she got into her teens. She had been singing at weddings and in bars to make money, just barely getting by, when she tried her hand at writing a few songs. One of the songs was 'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl,' and someone in the music industry heard it when she was singing at a county fair. She described the month after that as leaping headfirst into a blender going a thousand miles an hour.

She said, "That was only nine months ago. Terry became my agent, and he connected me with Dave, the producer for the record company. We cranked out an album in record time to go with 'Flirty Cowgirl.' When that came out the song slowly inched its way into the top spot on the country charts – the album too. And, presto, I became star!"

I asked whether she had a boyfriend.

Crystal laughed and shook her head. "I got married at seventeen and divorced at twenty – three years I wouldn't wish on anyone. I've been skittish of a serious relationship ever since, although now almost nine years has passed since we separated. I haven't seen him for the past seven; I don't even know whether he still lives in the state."

In a serious mood, Crystal said, "I used to have friends I'd just hang out with. We were all in the same boat, trying to squeak by. When I 'made it,' they all became scared of me in some way – distant, obsequious. I see them, but it's not the same. Being famous is lonely in some ways; I'm surrounded with an entourage, but have few real friends. It's very hard to make real friends from where I am now: how do I know when I meet someone if they're not just cuddling up to me because I'm a star making a lot of money or because I have contacts that could help them become a star?"

While I would have been happy to have her dominate the conversation and tell me more about her rise to fame, she seemed to want to know about me. I only know how to be candid and open, so I told her about growing up, my Army years, Karen and her death, rebuilding the motorcycle, and my trip across the states. For some reason, I also mentioned that I'd been shot in Alabama stopping a rape; Crystal thought all that was exciting, particularly when I pulled my shirt up and showed her the bandages over my bullet holes.