Great news, clearly. But his ex-wife “cussed me out. Regina said, ‘Why would you tell people you had Alzheimer’s? Now you’ll never get bookings!'” he laughs. “I’m saying, ‘Bookings? I don’t care about no goddamned bookings! I’m alive!'” When I press him to clarify that his ex-wife is, then, his manager, Womack looks at me with something like a twinkle. “It’s a thrill for me to sit up and talk to you. Cos you let me talk,” he smiles, which is correct; although in truth, I’ve not had much choice. “Most people would say, ‘What was it like when you got your first cheque from the Rolling Stones?'” So, he says, he’s going to tell me something about his ex-wife.
“I’ve always had a love for her,” he begins, “and respect. And three weeks ago I didn’t know what was going to happen because people were always calling, saying, ‘What is it like still being here?'” he grumbles. I think he’s referring to the death of his brother. “And it was a strange feeling. So I thought, what I’ve seen happen to so many of my constituents [sic] – when they die, everybody gets the money but the person who really should get it. And I’m not gonna let that happen. So I told Gina, let’s get re-married.”
“So you’ve married your ex-wife?”
“Yeah. In Los Angeles, three weeks ago. You’re the first person I’ve told. So I told her, if something happens to me tomorrow, the few nickels I’ve got left, you can take ’em and take care of my kids. Cos my kids will always be my kids. And I feel good about that. Cos I’ve seen so much destruction, from Sam Cooke to Jimi Hendrix to Ray Charles – them guys will wake up and come back and say, ‘They’re fighting each other…'”