12 Step Program, part two, chapter forty
Whatever Happened to Bob Jansen
“One concert?” I asked.
“One,” Bob replied. “I thought I’d made that clear from the start.”
“You could tour, make a lot of money, maybe a new album.”
“Yeah, I know, but that would be anti-climatic, repetitive, trying to replicate that high would be phoney. It would be too much like kickstarting my career. I’m too old for starting over.”
“So why start at all?”
Personal reasons. I can’t really explain it. For years I’d had this dream where I was on a horse, galloping closer toward success. Then, I’d realize it was a wooden horse, a beautifully carved wooden horse, mounted on a merry-go-round. In the middle of the carousel was a brass ring. Grab it and you could have everything you wished for. “
“I’ve heard about the brass ring. I’ve never met anyone who grabbed it. What did you want?”
‘For me that was the fame and wealth that came from being a successful singer and recording artist. That might fave been shallow, as I learned once I’d left music behind, but, God, the temptation was seductive. The horse would get so close, but I’d always miss that ring and the horse would complete its circle.
“I’d pay a few more coins and try again, with the same result. It took me a long time to realize I could get off the horse and walk away. I didn’t need it.
“’That merry-go-round still exists, it still taunts.
“I’m going back for old time’s sake. This time I’ll know that I’ve already got the brass ring in a way. I won’t be tempted. But I do wonder.”
While waiting for Luke, I took a few days off and flew with Bob down to L.A. to meet Barb.
That meant sitting down with Abe Jr. and Bob Stern. The objective was to get the brothers to turn at least 50% of 12 Step Program back to Bob. It didn’t go well.
“We swore that we wouldn’t screw with the company. Abe was clear about that,” said Abe Jr.
“But you sold Barb to a major,” I protested.
“On the promise it wouldn’t do anything without our say so. It’s made good on that while making us a profit.”
“OK, you don’t have to change anything; you just have to sign over half of 12 Step Program to Bob here.”
I looked over at Bob. He was looking like a little schoolboy caught cheating on a test. He was silent.
“But that will change us. 12 Step has made a good deal of money over the years and probably will continue to make Barb more. We’ll be screwing with dad.”
At that moment Bob finally spoke.
“I needed some money. Abe knew I was desperate and Barb also needed money. I was young and green. Didn’t know anything about the music business. So, I signed. I got my money and he got a song that, by earning 100% , paid back the label quickly. I think Abe felt guilty about that.”
“He probably did,” said Bob Stern. “Barb has conducted itself with integrity, even if it hasn’t been hugely successful. The song is the only deal Abe made that is like that – with a white guy at least -, but that’s how he left it, and that’s how it will stay.”
“So, you’re not going to give back 50%,” I asked?
“No. Can’t do it. Good luck with your show.
I left the brothers crestfallen; Bob looked like he got what he deserved.
How, though, did the two know about the concert?
They knew about it because of that one story in the local newspaper.
It was channeled to Canadian Press, a national wire service. Any newspaper could pick it off and edit to fit. The article was seen across the country and was online where it could be read by the whole world. It was a straightforward retelling of my effort to find Bob, his discovery and emergence. The reference to 12 Step Program was brief but crucial. The piece ended with a plug for the show at the Commodore.
Presumably, that’s how the Stern brothers knew of it.
Bob’s unexpected return had created a ball that was rolling, getting bigger and faster. It wouldn’t stop in L.A.
As the date of the concert neared, my world expanded and got crazier.
I was manager, promoter, organizer and spokesman.
“One show?” I asked again.
“One.” Bob assured me. “Anything else would be anticlimatic.”
“Anticlimactic.”
“Whatever,” he said testily. “I can’t see myself climbing into a van or bus and doing this night after night. Maybe when I was younger, had more desire, and a promising future was before me.”
“You can still have that. There is still a future.”
“Oh yeah? A short one. Nah, this seems too much like starting over.”
“You could make a record of those songs you claim to have stockpiled.”
“And who would buy it? How? This ain’t the 60s.”
“A live album, then, and possibly a DVD.”
“Why?”
“History. Let people know this happened. Let them relive it.”
“Then you’d better get the ok from Luke. He’ll know if we’re ready to be recorded. Who would do the recording?”
“Marty Leven. He knows you; he’s recorded you. He also probably knows a DVD director.”
“And if I said yes, who would market it?”
“Barb. The label already owns 12 Step and probably the big brother would step in to promote it.It could have the publishing. Abe Jr. and Bob wouldn’t have to do anything but open the door.”
“This sounds like we’re putting a lot of pressure on ourselves. A lot would be riding on one gig.”
“That’s one of the reasons I want you to tour.”
“One of the reasons?”
“Yeah, another is that I’m getting called all the time by promoters, not just in America, but all over the world. Most would set up a tour and guarantee you some ridiculous money.””
“And after that?” asked Bob. “Right now I’m news. Next year I might as well be Bob Johnson.”
“But one concert? The Commodore sold out instantly. Live Nation is holding the Ballroom for us. It figures we easily could do one added show and even more.”
“At 40 bucks a ticket,” Bob whistled. “That’s more like 20 times what we charged for a ticket in 1966.”
“See, I told you you could make a lot of money.”
“And I thought I told you I’m not doing this for the money. Pay yourself, pay Luke and his band, pay who ever needs to be paid and give the rest to…um…. there must be a First Nations scholarship fund.”.
