Like anyone who remembers Kid Rock from before he became a rap-rock superstar, I’ve thought of his trajectory as I wouldn’t have guessed, but sure, makes sense. That same feeling applies to David Peisner’s ace profile in Rolling Stone, in which he talks to folks throughout Bob Ritchie’s life and finally winds up at the man’s Tennessee compound—where things go even more awry than you can imagine.
I sent one last Hail Mary to his manager. Much to my surprise, this time, I got a response: an offer to meet Ritchie two days later for what was supposed to be a 90-minute tête-à-tête.
I’m not really sure what changed his mind. It could be that he knows a contentious story in Rolling Stone will give him a platform to shout about liberal-media bias and bolster his status on the right. Or it could just be that he’s got something to promote, a new festival he co-founded called Rock the Country that’s playing in seven smaller cities and towns across Appalachia and the Southeast this spring and summer. At any rate, by the time we’re done with Laura Ingraham, we’ve blown way past our allotted time, but he’s just getting warmed up. Soon enough, he’ll get drunk and belligerent, and the evening will go way off the rails, but at the moment, things are still pretty cordial.
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