Word had swept rapidly though the press, and ticket sales were
plummeting. I Mall was washed up as a concert draw, the stories
said. One story quoted his most public outburst, “This may be one
small downfall for I, but one great downfall for I-kind!
They'll be sorry they lost the greatest thing they ever had.
You won't have I to push around anymore!”
I wanted to keep touring, but new bookings were few and far
between. Due to the stress of the situation, I had been prescribed
some tranquilizers, although he had yet to take any. He mulled over
his calendar and was incensed when he saw a dual booking on the
schedule.
He yelled at Rod, “How am I supposed to be in two places at the
same time? There's no way in Hell that I can play a concert in
New York City and Miami on the same night!” He was sure his manager
was playing mind games on him. There could be no other explanation.
“Just fix it and get out!”
Rod looked at the schedule and said defensively, “The Miami and New
York dates are ones we were pursuing. They both fell through. You
have nothing on that date.”
Rod left I alone, and I opened his guitar case, strummed a chord
and started a new song of pain. As he sang and wrote down the
lyrics that flowed from his soul, it calmed him a bit: