It was a pivotal point in my life. I could make personal improvements and climb up the ladder, or I could fall off the steep ledge into ruin. There was no in-between. I was sitting alone in the Manhattan office of RCA Records Vice President Bob Jamieson. On the wall hung photos of Bob holding prize catches on fishing trips, his family vacations, and at the podium of an award ceremony. Another wall was devoted to gold records and autographed pictures of well known RCA artists. I wiped the sweat from my upper lip and rehearsed my talking points once again. The devil on my right shoulder whispered,