"Today I'm sober and debt-free. I've got a ways to go before I'm guilt-free."
I'd call this more of a 3.5 star read. There were a few stories that hadn't already been "Behind the Music'd" to death, and George's humor came through. He talked a bit about the struggles for artists getting paid for their work and not getting completely robbed by the labels and promoters and managers in the 1960s/70s, but I wish there had been a deeper dive there. Of course, George freely admits he doesn't remember a lot of that.
He's incredibly candid about his alcohol and drug use. None of it sounds remotely glamorous or even fun. He got drunk, got mad, passed out, coked up, and did it all over again. He married 4 women and sired 4 children (not counting various step children). He little to no relationships with his 3 older children and really only mentions Georgette (his daughter with Tammy) in passing. He includes only his step-daughter with his last wife, Nancy, in his book. Ouch.
His memories of Tammy are fairly tasteful, although she sued him for child support and you can tell he's bitter about it. Tammy didn't stay and "fix" him. She had 4 kids to take care of and a career that was, at the time, more high-powered than his. She didn't have time for a 5th child.
George venerates his last wife Nancy for "fixing" him. Her job was also being Mrs. George Jones and she became his manager. But under her watch he did get sober and rebuild his career.
I completely agree with George that country music, which used to support its pioneering musicians, now drops most of them as soon as they're 40+. George wrote this book in the 90s when women ruled country radio: Reba, Shania, Trisha, Kathy, Dolly. Today only Miranda, Carrie, and Kasey are anywhere near as huge as Luke Bryan and Jason Aldean. If you look up the top 10 country acts, they're all men. The list might even include Reba and Dolly who are still beloved but who haven't had huge radio play in over 15 years.
And it's all pre-packaged and either a ballad or a novelty song. The Possum was the last of his kind: someone who get a song and sell it by voice alone.