A woman was charged with making ‘terrorist’ threats to CZJ in numerous letters and telephone calls. What a weird situation. Why would you stalk CZJ? I mean, I love CHICAGO. I am not kidding. Ask anyone. I have two copies of the dvd, because I thought I lost one and then I had to get another one and then I found the first one, but it is ok to have two because I watch it a lot. However, I prefer the song and dance numbers by Roxie Hart, played by Renee Zellweger, so I am not as familiar with CZJ’s numbers. Still, she is great, and totally pregnant when she was shimmying across the boards, so you have to give it up. That rules. Stalking makes you crazy.
I am not aware of my own stalkers, but I see second hand how stalkers have ruined lives. Look at Adam Ant.
In the early 80s, no one was more beautiful, more exciting, more thrilling than Adam Ant. With his buccaneer waistcoat, haphazard braids, lip gloss and white stripe running horizontally across his face, he presented the new wave of pop music with epic style and intelligent discourse. He was all about how ‘rock-n-roll’ was over, the decadence and druggy life of the pop idol was a dinosaur, and he was going to bring elegance and accountability to the kids. He didn’t drink or do drugs, and he worked with his tour promoters to make sure that his shows were open to audience members of all ages. His slogan was “Ant music for sex people” – and he wasn’t advocating sexual congress, rather celebration of sex and gender for one’s own enjoyment. He prescribed vanity and coquettishness to cure societal ills, and it worked, for a string of fifteen top ten hit songs.
“Stand and Deliver” is one of the catchiest pop confections ever recorded, and there isn’t any way to replicate that war cry during the chorus no matter how many times you practice in the privacy of your own home. Adam Ant was heavily influenced by North American Native culture, with a strong swashbuckling swagger of a pirate, a pastiche of warrior archetypes behind a hard tribal beat. The Ants boasted two drummers, which induced a trance like state in the underage crowd.
After the mighty 80s mad rush of popularity, Adam Ant split with the Ants and forged onto a successful solo career. However, he had never really come to terms with his own deep problems with manic depression. Heady fame had been a distraction for years, and now, with that popularity starting to change and slowly dissipate, his demons came back into full view. Adam moved to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career, and landed a number of interesting roles, but never achieved the level of stardom that he had grown accustomed to.
Then, he opened his door one day to a stalker. This woman was convinced that secret messages in Adam Ant’s songs had led her to him, that they were married and she was carrying his child. She wouldn’t leave and wouldn’t hear anything otherwise. In her mind they were together and that was that. The stalker was relentless, and the local authorities were uncooperative. Eventually, Adam left for London, unable to bear the attacks any longer. England proved to be not much better. He was targeted by another stalker, equally as tenacious as the first.
All this trauma triggered his depression, and led him to a series of unfortunate incidents and miles of bad press. It is really sad, because when I see the old footage from Top of the Pops, when Adam and the Ants were the top of the pops, the pain of the legend of the falling star is remarkably acute. In interviews now, that shine and sparkle is gone, replaced by a hollow suffering, brought on by the business end of shotgun fame.
I will always love Adam Ant, because he’s the Dandy Highwayman, but I would never stalk him. Don’t stalk people. You don’t know how close to the edge they are.