The Soul of It All

by Michael Bolton

  I learned that as proposed legislation moves through the House and the Senate, those who oppose it can find ways to water it down or even to add language that will render it ineffective, make it controversial, or result in it being rejected even by its original supporters. What was going on with our bill was just a small part of what goes on all day every day with so many other bills. It takes constant vigilance, perseverance, and political finesse to clear all the obstacles and objections and finally get meaningful bills made into meaningful laws. The more I learn about the process, the more I appreciate what an incredible system it is, and how difficult it can be to master. I have great respect for public servants like the Clintons who dedicate their lives to making our country and its sometimes messy but still inspiring democracy work for everyone.

  Credit: Bolotin Family Collection

  Chapter Thirteen

  Friends & Lovers

  Despite the excruciating distraction of the Isley lawsuit, the 1990s proved to be an incredibly rewarding decade for me, and one of the brightest points in this period of my life was my relationship with the actress Nicollette Sheridan. It’s a little complicated because after being friends for a year or so, we first became a couple around 1992 and saw each other until 1995. Then we were on and off for nearly ten years before reuniting and becoming engaged in 2006. Even during those ten years you could find us having lunch at Taverna Tony’s in Malibu. Tony, who was a dear friend of Telly Savalas for over forty years, would always make sure we had our own place outside to continue our ongoing fierce but friendly Scrabble match. Nicollette and I saw each other for the next two years, until 2008, before breaking off the engagement and returning to our friendship, which continues to this day. She was at my side during many pivotal moments, from the highs of getting my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame to the lows of the Isley trial.

  Nicollette and I first met at the 1991 wedding of my friend and frequent collaborator Kenny G and his wife, Lyndie. My date for their wedding was Teri Hatcher. Nicollette’s date was her husband, Harry Hamlin. They’d just been married themselves, and we became good friends in the months that followed.

  Nicollette starred in Knots Landing and she’d just been named one of People magazine’s “Fifty Most Beautiful People” (a compliment I agreed with). We ran in the same social circles for several years. I often saw Harry and Nicollette at Kenny and Lyndie’s house, where we’d have vicious Ping-Pong tournaments. We had cookouts and played board games. Occasionally we went nuts and watched a movie—starring someone in the room.

  My friendship with Nicollette developed into the deepest and most enduring relationship of my life. Nicollette is energetic, fearless, sharp, and spirited—and she’s the only person I’ve met who can kick my ass in Scrabble. Nic is every bit as competitive and driven as I am. She dives in and gives all she’s got to everything she does, whether it’s her work, a party, a charity event, or a relationship. She is extremely passionate, and I was wrapped up in our relationship very quickly.

  Early in our courtship, Nicollette and I spoke a few times on the phone during a photo shoot for my Timeless album cover with the extraordinary photographer Matthew Rolston, known as “El Drapo” for the skillful way he arranges clothing to make his subjects look good. I was supposed to be focused on the camera and Matthew’s instructions, but he picked up on the way I talked to Nicollette and the expression on my face as we spoke.

  “I hope everything works out with Nicollette,” Matthew said.

  I was taken aback that he’d read the situation and my feelings so easily. But that’s why Matthew is such a great photographer. He sees what others miss.

  I was ready to fall in love without a doubt. I’d been singing about it for a long, long time, and I was eager to experience that depth of emotion. Our relationship changed my life in many wonderful ways. Having someone I could share my experiences with made them all the more enjoyable, especially when my career was soaring.

  We went on great vacations to beautiful places around the world. Of course, we often were not alone, even when we thought we were. Some of our island vacation spots were invaded by little trolls with giant camera lenses hiding among the lizards and tropical shrubs. Other times, they would appear in speedboats a hundred yards offshore, carrying long camera lenses with the intent of surreptitiously photographing us at play on the beach.

  Nicollette and I also had many great parties, concerts, and events to attend. Early in our relationship, she accompanied me to Washington for a presidential party. The Gala for the President at Ford’s Theatre is an annual black-tie event. I was invited to perform, as were Whoopi Goldberg, Jay Leno, Boyz II Men, Natalie Cole, Kenny Loggins, and a bunch of others. Now, political events in D.C. can be stodgy, but this was during the White House years of Bill Clinton and his wife, Hillary, so it was a real party.

  The event was broadcast on network television, and I’m told some people complained about jokes and comments that were a little more racy than those customarily made at White House events. It’s a good thing those same people weren’t backstage. Nicollette and I were socializing with a large group of other performers and their guests in the dressing room after my twenty-minute set when Whoopi walked in.

  Whoopi, who was the hostess and emcee for the event, came up and hugged me.

  “How was it?” I said, referring to my singing performance.

  “Not a dry seat in the house,” Whoopi replied.

  Everyone cracked up. I laughed along, but the image conjured up by Whoopi left me feeling a little uneasy. Nicollette loved it. She laughed and laughed. She didn’t love the fact that I had to leave the Ford’s Theatre event before the after-party. There was another audience waiting for me in Florida, so I had to scramble to the airport and catch a plane to Boca Raton.

  PROUD MOMENTS

  Nicollette and I shared many big moments and great experiences, including my daughter Isa’s graduation from basic training at the Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio. Watching my daughter, the squadron leader and environmental biological engineer, march her troops made for one of the proudest days of my life. Surrounded by air force officers and other family members, I watched my firstborn march in perfect step with the other graduates. It was difficult to process that this was my baby girl, who had sat in her stroller smiling while I sang and played my guitar for her.

  Earlier we had visited her barracks and she demonstrated what she had to do to prepare for inspections. I didn’t know a sock could be folded into sixteenths. I kept wondering where Isa’s drive and focus came from. She’d made the decision to join the air force on her own, and she did a remarkable job. We celebrated her accomplishments that day, and it was great to have both Nic and my daughter Taryn there, too.

  Taryn was so excited she couldn’t help but rush up and give her big sister a hug. Taryn didn’t quite get the reaction she’d hoped for, though, because Isa leaped back out of her arms. “If there’s one wrinkle on my uniform, they won’t let me attend the ceremony,” Isa said.

  I was proud of my daughters and my date that day. I could see Nicollette intentionally keeping a low profile so that Isa would feel like the star of the day. I loved that about her. She did the same thing on another memorable occasion when she joined me on a visit to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. We went to offer our respect and best wishes to wounded troops and their families, just as Desperate Housewives was being raved about as a hit TV show. I worried that seeing some of the severely wounded military men and women might be too intense for Nic, but she was fantastic with them. Actually, the women patients and female family members were glad to see me, but the males couldn’t take their eyes off Nicollette. I was just as much in awe of her that day. She was simply dressed but stunning, and so sweet and giving as she spoke with many of them. I kept thinking, They really don’t need me in this room.

  I was grateful for the opportunity to see Nicollette in that setting. She reached out and gave it her all that day, just as she always does. Of
course, I am always grateful to perform in any way for our brave troops and their families, who sacrifice so much, especially since my daughter served in the military, too. I joined a huge group of performers and celebrities, including Nicollette, in Voices That Care, a music video made in 1991 by David Foster for our troops during Operation Desert Storm. Aside from doing the video itself, the greatest rewards from that were the cards and letters of thanks I received afterward from men and women serving in the military around the world. We may never reach a national consensus on when and where to deploy our troops, but I think we all learned from Vietnam that we must support those who pay the price for our every freedom. They are the bravest of the brave. They don’t decide where to wage their battles, their leaders do, but they fight for their country far away from home and around the world. They risk their lives and give their all to protect our freedoms and our way of life.

  MAGNETIC ATTRACTION

  Nicollette and I spoke often of our shared experiences with the troops. I also revealed more of myself with her than I had with anyone since my divorce. Ours was never a casual relationship. It was always intense. We seemed to know each other better than anyone knew either of us.

  There has always been this magnetic force at work with us. We are two very strong personalities and from time to time our passionate relationship might have been responsible for tsunamis, global warming, and the shifting of tectonic plates. There were so many pivotal moments in each of our lives that we shared with each other. Over a span of eighteen years, we came together, broke up, loved, fought, played, inspired, and provoked each other. My attraction to Nicollette was intense. We bonded intellectually and spiritually as well as physically.

  A small army of paparazzi and tabloid reporters have supported their families by covering us. We’re both fiercely loyal, fierce advocates for our positions, and just plain fierce. She’s wise beyond her years, of course. As the daughter of actress Sally Adams and the stepdaughter of Telly Savalas, she grew up in a very sophisticated, globe-trotting family with a beloved father figure.

  Snuggling with Nicollette at night made my career successes all the sweeter. Neither one of us wanted to be anywhere but intertwined. Yet the success that helped make life so deliriously enjoyable also forced us apart far too often. In 1997, when I wrote an illustrated children’s book, The Secret of the Lost Kingdom, I named the princess Nicole after her, and another character, Gug, who saves the day, was named for her grandfather in England.

  Our career obligations were always the biggest challenge to our being able to stay together. I respected Nicollette’s deep commitment to her work, just as she respected mine. I marveled at her ability to bring her characters to life. Whether on Knots Landing or Desperate Housewives or in her movie roles, her characters always seemed to stand out in every scene because she’s committed to developing them fully.

  As busy as she was, Nicollette was great about trying to catch time with me while I was touring, but life on the road isn’t as comfortable as being home together. Living out of luggage is tough enough, but a concert tour often resembles a traveling circus. I was also torn away from her to do publicity and promotion while on the road. Still, I took great comfort in having her hand in mine when we traveled. Of course, her time was precious, too, and she could never stay with me too long because of her busy career. It was much easier for me to visit her on the set, but while touring I was seldom in Los Angeles.

  During our first few years as a couple, we wanted to be together whenever possible, but I resisted living together because of my demanding lifestyle and all of the travel and long hours that came with it, as well as the logistics and endless details of running your own career, a not-so-small industry that would follow me in the form of midnight faxes and paperwork requiring my signature, or numbers and scheduling that needed my approval. Give me concierge or give me death. Nicollette had an inviting British country–style home in Los Angeles that she’d made incredibly cozy. She wanted me to stay there, and I wanted to stay with her, too, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that successfully, given my demanding work. I had not lived full-time with any woman since my divorce in 1991. Because of constant touring, I had dwelled mostly in places with numbers on the doors and room service at the ready.

  The fact is that living in hotels best suits my vagabond vampire existence. I’m constantly on the move, either touring or bouncing between recording studios, and I usually don’t get to bed until 4 a.m., which means I sleep until 11 a.m. or so. If I’m in a full-service hotel, I can sleep knowing that I can take care of my business while the staff handles distractions and relays messages and packages. My long and late nights writing songs and recording in the studio, along with touring around the world, does not lend itself to the “Honey, I’m home” model of domestic bliss. Basically, I am the CEO of a multimillion-dollar business operated on the run.

  My lifestyle is not remotely compatible with a nine-to-five routine or a home office. The closest thing to a pet that I can have is a stuffed animal, because a live one would either die of loneliness or starvation. I’m just not in one place long enough to care for a pet. Maybe I can work at having plants, or at least a cactus. Honestly, I’ve known only a handful of couples in my business who seemed to have an idyllic, stable, loving, best-friends sort of marriage. When I’ve seen the real thing, or what seemed to be the real thing, I’ve admired it but had some skepticism, too.

  Once while observing a musician friend and his wife having a conversation at the breakfast table, I was so moved and inspired by their unspoken bonds I wrote a song about it. I was simply touched by their warm banter about their kids and the things on the day’s agenda. My ears are sensitive to tones. The way they spoke to each other made me want what they had, what was so lacking in my life at that point. It was the sort of Kodak moment so rare in my mad dash of a life.

  While I was staying with that couple, I began to write the song, called “Once in a Lifetime,” about what a gift a true, loving, and lasting relationship must be. Diane Warren and Walter Afanasieff later helped me complete and polish the composition, which we recorded soon after. It was selected for the sound track of the 1994 movie Only You with Marisa Tomei and Robert Downey Jr.

  My “Once in a Lifetime” recording rose to No. 15 on the Adult Contemporary charts. I was happy to have written it because I am still a romantic and always will be.

  THE SECOND TIME AROUND

  I didn’t realize how many years and incarnations my relationship with Nicollette would encompass. Even after Nic and I had stopped seeing each other romantically, we met from time to time for lunch in Los Angeles and maybe to play some Scrabble, catch up on friends and family, and just enjoy each other’s company. Our romance heated up again in 2005 and soon after I asked Nicollette to marry me and gave her an engagement ring. We were reveling in love, and it looked like our time had finally come for a lasting relationship. I was recording my Bolton Swings Sinatra CD, and I invited her to perform a duet of “The Second Time Around” with me. I’d always thought Nic had a beautiful voice, though she wouldn’t sing if she thought I was listening most of the time. She did a great job on the song, and it reflected our reuniting, which felt very good. Nicollette expressed our passionate reunion for millions of viewers on Jimmy Kimmel Live! in 2008.

  When Nicollette appeared on Jimmy’s show, he kept prodding her to reveal what brought us back together again after a ten-year split. Finally, Nic gave it up:

  “We missed the greatest sex!”

  Then she hastily added that there were other mitigating factors: “We’re wiser and we have incredible Scrabble games that have only gotten better over the years.”

  I don’t know what it is about Jimmy urging beautiful women to talk about me on his show. First Nicollette and then, more recently, Paula Abdul. I love Jimmy and his show, but the talk show host dearest to my heart is Oprah.

  The most astounding thing that I ever heard from Oprah came from an interview she did right when she was winding down
her twenty-five-year run on network television. She said her biggest fear was that she wouldn’t live up to her full potential in this lifetime. Her comment stopped me in my tracks. If Oprah hasn’t fulfilled her potential, how much hope is there for the rest of us? But I understand the sense of responsibility that she touched upon. She further expressed that you can’t ever give less than 100 percent because people have come from all over and they’re there to see you, that’s their moment, so there is an enormous sense of respect, reverence, and honor toward those people. Oprah had me on her show several times, visited my home, and went on tour with me. Once she even showed up onstage singing backup at a concert. Now, there’s a shocker. I’m singing my heart out to the audience and I look over and—wait, there’s a new lady in my backup group and she looks an awful lot like… Oprah? She has given us all so much.

  Five months after Nicollette revealed our shared Scrabble addiction on Jimmy’s show, we called off the engagement and split up again. We made the decision just as I was heading out on another tour, this one to South America, and I was grateful for the distraction and at least the distance.

  During our second time around, I had moved in with Nicollette. She did everything possible to make her lovely home comfortable for me, short of allowing me to build a recording studio in the master bedroom and a par 3 golf course in the backyard. I felt guilty every time another truckload of FedEx boxes or faxes arrived to clutter up her spotless home, wishing that she had a concierge in the lobby to handle the constant flow of correspondence and packages that had to be dealt with.

  Cohabitation seems to work just fine for most human beings, and I often dream of settling down one day in a loving relationship. There is nothing that compares to sharing that accumulated life experience and the sense of being a unified team against the world outside. I miss sharing experiences with Nicollette. Ordering one box of popcorn for two people at the movies. Complete intimacy. The freedom to be exposed emotionally and to express anything and everything because you are best friends as well as lovers. I want to feel like my late friend Bart Wolstein, who said that after a round of golf, when the other guys went into the clubhouse, his preference was “to go home and see my girl,” referring to his wife, Iris.