By 1972, the move to country had somewhat damaged my fan base . . .
I was used to playing big stadiums, but I suddenly found myself relegated to a tour of Northern Ontario airport lounges. Apparently, The Rolling Stones were also going through hard times after the death of Brian Jones. By a strange twist of fate, we bumped into each other at a lounge in Hornpayne, Ontario. You see, we shared the same manager, who had apparently double booked us at the same venue that night. To rectify the situation, we decided to do the gig together, which sort of heralded my return to rock n' roll; at least that's how the trade papers put it. As you can tell by this photo, Mick was wowed by my playing that night, and asked me to join the band permanently. Unfortunately, I had other commitments in Austria that spring and couldn't. But I suggested that "Ron would", meaning my old high school bud Ronny Mendelchuck, who was a big Stones fan. Apparently the boys misheard me and the rest, as they say, is history . . .

By 1975, after years of touring, I decided I'd had enough . . .
Having been on the road for almost 20 years, I wanted to pack it in while I was still on top of my game. I decided to have my farewell concert where it all began for me, at the famed Chug Water Motel in Bucksnort Tennessee. I called the event 'The Final Merengue' and invited some of my musician friends to join me in saying goodbye to the road. Here I am pictured with Van Morrison and Bob Dylan during the shows final number. Unfortunately, the film version of the show has never seen the light of day. The master was destroyed when, on my way home from the gig, I was in a near fatal moped accident that almost left me paralyzed. As fate would have it my good friend Robbie happened to be on the scene, and he saw that I got swift medical attention. God bless you Robbie . . .

Then in 1977, whilst still in recovery, I decided I needed a comeback . . .
I didn't take to retirement well. The moped accident had forced me into seclusion for a number of years, again prompting rumours of my death (although they were again greatly exaggerated). I found myself depressed and addicted to tea. It was in this fog of self pity that I made, in hind sight, a bad career move: I became the original Indian guy in The Village People. What I didn't, and most people still don't, realize was that they were actually a weird cult-like secret society bent on world domination disquised as an all gay but fun loving Disco band. Before I was brainwashed completely, I faked my own death by driving my moped into a hotel beer fridge, allowing me to escape. This again prompted rumours of my death (although they were greatly exaggerated) . . .

My next move, whilst in hiding from the Village People, left my fans even more puzzled . . .
I knew I couldn't remain dead forever. So, under the RCMP's 'former member of a weird cult-like secret society bent on world domination disquised as an all gay but fun loving Disco band' protection initiative, I was secretly re-located to Sweden where I was given a new identity as a Danish transvestite named Lola (yes - that Lola). The agents in charge of my protection were all RCMP members diquised as a Swedish pop band. Unfortunately, counter agents sent by the Village People, disquised as an English rock band, met up with me in an underground 'teahouse' whilst I was vacationing in Soho. They wrote that song which blew the lid off the whole operation. I was swiftly deported. . .