As I looked for a vein, I felt the familiar rush that accompanied the ritual itself. I put Dad’s book aside, opened the FedEx, and prepared a shot. Then I’d return to my hotel and do more coke. In each city, a FedEx like the one I was holding awaited me, and I spent all day every day in my hotel room, shooting up coke, coming out only to appear onstage for the nightly gig. ![]() We were on an extended tour, performing in city after city for more than 250 days of the year. The band, a reconstituted version of the Mamas & the Papas, included my father, Denny Doherty, Spanky McFarlane, and me. One contained a book, my father’s newly published memoir, but I was more interested in the other package-a flat FedEx letter containing an eighth of an ounce of cocaine. "In the mideighties, when I was on tour with the New Mamas & the Papas, a porter brought two packages up to my hotel room.
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